AD Liberation
by nodsri
Summary: The Terran Battlecruiser has been destroyed, along with all hope of a speedy resolution to the war. On the ground, the Terrans fight on to hold back the advancing Swarm, and in space, the Protoss nurse their wounds and prepare a drastic solution.
1. Chapter 1

Darkainia, the planet of Scribes. A pretty, water rich, Class M planet sitting on the edge of Confederation space. It was of modest value, being relatively poor with minerals or Vespene gas compared to its sister planets in Confed space. It was also far away from the normal space lanes. Thus, the human Confederacy had always tolerated its independence.   
  
But the Zerg didn't care.   
  
Six weeks after the newsnets were screaming about alien invasion and the Protoss razing of Mar Sara, the Swarm appeared over Darkainia.   
  
The common people were unprepared. Used to being ignored, the idyllic agricultural world was ravaged by the unrelenting fury of the Swarm. Zerg appeared in all major population centers. First came the ominous crablike Guardians, bombarding humanity's cities with spore bombs. Later came the Hydralisks and Zerglings rushing through the streets, clawing at anything that dared move.   
  
Unprepared for the inhuman savagery of the Swarm, most of Darkainia soon became covered in the purplish fungal mat the humans called Creep.   
  
Most, but not all.   
  
The liberation of Darkainia is about to begin.   
  
STARCRAFT  
  
Ad Liberation  
  
The five siege tanks rolled through deserted city streets, stopping in the middle of a large plaza. As soon as it stopped, it emanated the loud hiss of pneumatics as stabilising rods unfolded from the tanks' bodies, burying themselves into the ground as the main cannons began to telescope out from the turrets.   
  
In less than a minute the five Darkainian siege tanks were fully sieged.  
  
"This is Lt. Jing. We are in position," said the blue-eyed, brown haired commander of the lead tank in the formation through the radio. The young Darkainian lieutenant was barely twenty, but he had already established a reputation during the Darkainian's resistance to the Zerg invasion. Eighty six notches were carved into his tank's gun barrel, that was back in the early days when the Darkainian forces bothered with kill counts. But the Zerg were so numerous, coming in endless waves that seemingly never ended, that even the "Manoeuvring Ace" no longer bothered keeping count.   
  
"Roger that, Lt. The Marines are coming in," came the reply.   
  
It was a bright Thursday afternoon, but the smoke and dust of battle obscured Jing's vision, forcing him to rely on his tank's infrared imaging systems. He saw several bright shapes advancing slowly towards him.   
  
Jing smiled. The Darkainian Marines.   
  
The Marines made their way sullenly to the safety of the tanks, their numbers thinned yet again in bitter house to house fighting as they uprooted every last Zergling, every snarling Hydralisk, from the city.   
  
Ninety seven proud men from what was once two hundred men walked slowly, purposefully towards the relative safety of Lt. Jing's tanks. Before the Zerg invasion, these men were part-time soldiers at best, most of the preferring to indulge their free time in the planet's favourite pastime, writing and reading literature, rather than engage in combat. Now they no longer read about heroic battles against overwhelming odds: they lived them.   
  
At the very rear of the Marines, a single Marine Captain limped slowly, painfully towards safety. He limped, grunting in pain every step of the way, the massive weight of his body and dark gray combat armour supported on the shoulders of a beautiful medic in white combat armour.  
  
"Come on, Leo. Only two hundred meters to go before we reach the perimeter," the medic said, in her best calming tones. However, nothing can hide the faint trace of worry in her voice. For this particular marine was no ordinary grunt. Captain Leo Kozlov was her husband of five years.   
  
"Think… it's time for a stimpack?" Leo asked, grinning wickedly at his wife, despite his pain. Three Zerglings had swarmed the captain, wickedly clawing at him with their horrible appendages, his standard issue marine armour first buckling, then tearing beneath the horrible onslaught as metal plates tore away and the Zergling claws hooked into the tender flesh underneath. Only quick action by a Firebat saved Leo from being another casualty of the Zerg.   
  
"No more drugs, honey. You've already taken three stimpacks." Sarah said coolly even though it hurt her deeply to see her gentle husband like this.   
  
"Not even for me, Valkyrie?" he asked, smiling ironically. Throughout the war, Sarah had earned the name, saving many men from painful deaths at the hands of the Zerg. They both knew the men practically kept shrines to her.   
  
"God, not you too, Leo. It's embarrassing!" she protested as they came closer to the makeshift perimeter their fellow Marines set up around the plaza.   
  
Leo smiled. "Yeah, Sarah, but you look so cute when you blush, every time the men call you that,"  
  
"Oh, shush," Sarah said as they took the last steps towards relative safety, a small cheer erupting from the men as they stepped past the perimeter.   
  
Jing clambered out of his siege tank, eagerly running towards Leo, even as Sarah laid him down on the ground, her fingers quickly working the pneumatic clasps of her husband's armour loose.   
  
"Holy Shit, Captain. I thought we agreed no heroics this time," Jing said, smiling as Sarah brought out what the men called "instruments of torture", her field surgery kit.   
  
Leo smiled as he flashed the finger at his Darkainian Army comrade.   
  
"Hey Jing!" shouted out another Marine standing nearby.   
  
Jing turned around to see Hiraishin walk in his direction. He widened his eyebrows in curiosity, wondering what the "sand rat" had to say.   
  
"Hey bitch, you owe me another 100 credits. Took the Starport in half the estimated time," Hiraishin gloated as Jing scowled in displeasure at losing yet another bet. The damnable marines were almost making his tank boys look bad.   
  
"Pleasure doing business with you, Army boy," Hiraishin said smiling as he pocketed the money in one of the ammo storage compartments of his combat armour as Jing made his way back to his tank to give Lord Deathscythe the good news.   
  
"Bandit King Jing to Deathscythe. We've secured the Starport."   
  
Chris Smith smiled, as his wing of twelve Wraiths made their way towards the newly liberated city. The ruler of Darkainia, a proud young man still in his twenties wasn't the best pilot, but the war meant that everyone who knew how to pilot a Wraith was needed in the cockpit, no matter what his social standing was. He really didn't mind. His Deathscythe wing had done substantial damage, bombing Zerg sunken colonies and shooting down Mutalisks while the grunts below cleared the ground.  
  
Things were going well. The purple Creep wasn't so pervasive now. Granted, much of the planet was still overrun with Zerg, but the fortified areas where the Darkainians staged their counterattacks were growing stronger and the Creep had stopped advancing, in some places even retreating.   
  
As far as the Lord Deathscythe, Ruler of Darkainia was concerned, the war was going well.   
  
"This is Deathscythe. Looks like there's going to be another liberation party when we land, boys," he said, smiling as his wingmates broke into spontaneous cheers.   
  
"Hey boss," said Zoro50, one of the Wraith pilots. "Something's coming up on radar,"   
  
"Mutas?" Asked Soulfire, another member of the Deathscythe Wing.   
  
"Does it matter?" Deathscythe replied over the radio. "Point us in the right direction, Zoro, and take them down,"   
  
Sure enough as the pilots of the Deathscythe wing hit their thrusters the Zerg fliers came into view. A squadron, if the Zerg understood the concept, of thirty six angry-looking mutalisks, beating their wings as they made their way towards the newly liberated city.   
  
The flyboys knew that Jing and Leo's men were in danger. If the Mutalisks did not encounter serious resistance, soon the Guardians will follow. And the Guardians will mercilessly spore bomb Jing's tanks.   
  
"Engage cloaks!" Deathscythe ordered.   
  
Immediately the twelve Wraiths seemed to shimmer in the bright afternoon sun, then faded away first to transparency, then invisibility as the cloak fields engaged.   
  
"Break formation, flying pattern Alpha Three Iota!" Deatscythe commanded as the Wraiths broke formation and circled the unsuspecting Mutalisks.   
  
Immediately chaos reigned as the Wraiths fired their missiles, the silvery fish of death discharging seemingly from nowhere. Deathscythe smiled with satisfaction as he personally finished off three Mutalisks, their hideous wormlike bodies splattering in mid air. He felt grim satisfaction as he began the slaughter of the confused Mutalisks.   
  
But suddenly they didn't seem so confused anymore. They began spitting out the dreaded Glaive Wurms in the general direction of the Wraiths.   
  
"Goddammit, he got me," Soulfire shouted out as Glaive Wurms tore a furrow in his tail fin. He took no chances and banked sharply left, trying to avoid two Mutalisks that were now doggedly chasing him even though he was still technically invisible.   
  
"Everyone try to engage them one on one, and for God's sakes, don't group together!" Deathscythe shouted as he fired another missile at a Mutalisk, which missed by several feet. The mutalisk replied by spitting a series of Glaive Wurms at him, some of which grazed the aluminium wings of his Wraith.   
  
"Dammit," Deathscythe muttered. There was only one way the Mutalisks could shoot at cloaked planes - if there was an Overlord nearby. These bloated, floating brain like sacs somehow could past the humans' cloaking fields, which made life difficult for the Deathscythe Wing time and time again.  
  
"Where the fuck is that overlord?!" shouted Soulfire angrily as he desperately engaged in several high-G manoeuvres to shake off the pursuing Mutalisks.  
  
"I see it on radar! 12 o'clock high!" shouted Zoro as a Glaive Wurm barely missed his plane.  
  
"Launch every missile at it! Ignore all other targets!" ordered Deathscythe as he decloaked.   
  
"LD! What the fuck are you doing? Re-cloak!" shouted Soulfire as every single Mutalisk broke off their individual targets and converged on LD.   
  
"Get that overlord!" Deathscythe shouted as he flew his decloaked plane straight at the mass of Mutalisks, firing his lasers wildly.   
  
"I see it!" Zoro said calmly.. "I have missile lock," he continued.   
  
"FUCK! Hurry up!" Deathscythe said as he took a sharp dive, several Glaive Wurms hot on his exhaust trail.   
  
"Launching!" Zoro said.   
  
There was a muffled boom, followed by a thud. Deathscythe felt his Wraith shake as some of the Glaive Wurms hit an engine, causing it to automatically shut down. As his plane spiralled and he fought to regain control, Deathscythe activated the cloaking field.   
  
The next five minutes were a blur to him as he concentrated on keeping his shaking plane level. By the time he wrestled the Wraith back to a viable speed and altitude, the battle was already over.  
  
"Hey boss," said Epyon, another member of the Deathscythe Wing as he flew his plane alongside. He could see Epyon give the thumbs up.   
  
Beneath the oxygen mask, Deathscythe smiled. It was close, and Ryoji wasn't going to be happy to see his damaged plane, but all twelve members of the Deathscythe wing survived to fight another day.   
  
******  
  
Twelve dark grey Wraiths made their final approach runs, targeting the large round landing zone of the city's newly liberated Starport.   
  
"Attention Deathscythe Wing, this is the Control Tower," said a pleasant, if slightly monotonous female voice through the radio. "Proceed with automated landing programs, routine B."   
  
An excited whoop went out from Ken Sohryu's plane.  
  
"Rogzieeeeeel baby!" Ken shouted over the radio network, to the amusement of his wingmates. "Big daddy pump's a coming down for some hot robotic LOVING baby. You ready for some human style loving once I get back on solid ground?". Ken continued to tease Rogziel.  
  
There was a brief, almost polite silence, as the Wraiths approached the Starport. Then Rogziel spoke again.   
  
"I'm sorry, Ken, but I don't seem to have my physical body around to love you with," Rogziel answered smoothly.   
  
Despite the effort of keeping his Wraith level with only one working engine, Deathscythe chuckled to himself when he heard the exchange. Rogziel was the Adjutant Online for the Darkainians. An eternity ago, she was just another shy seventeen year old who spent too much time with computers.   
  
Now she co-ordinated communications and kept much of the automated Darkainian war machine running. And now she was talking to him.  
  
"Good afternoon, LD," said Rogziel's voice through his speakers.   
  
"I read you, adjutant," Deathscythe replied.   
  
"You have been selected first to land. Please cede control of your craft to the Control Tower in 5…. 4…"   
  
"Ummm Rogziel I have one engine shot here," Deathscythe protested. Was she able to bring him down safely?  
  
"Not a problem, 3… 2 … Command uplink successful. The control tower is now controlling by remote pilot," Rogziel intoned mechanically as one of the status lights in the cockpit came on.   
  
Deathscythe breathed a sign of relief, and took his hand off the joystick. He saw his wingmates circling the Starport in a holding pattern while his wraith made a gentle descent to the landing platform of the Starport.   
  
Deathscythe's plane touched down on the tarmac and he wearily opened his cockpit. He tiredly walked away from the  
  
The circular tarmac was a mess. Technicians in SCV suits can be seen busily putting out fires in the main Starport building. There were bits and pieces of Hydralisks and Zerglings scattered all over. Sometimes he saw the odd helmet or dropped rifle and his heart sank a little.   
  
A loud exclamation shook him out of his reverie  
  
"YOINK!" 


	2. AD Liberation ch 2

Deathscythe turned in the direction of the unhappy sound.   
  
A man in an SCV suit was slowly circling his Wraith, the suit's welding arm emitting a deep blue oxyacetylene flame as the helmet shook from side to side in disbelief.   
  
"Sorry about that Shin Ryoji," Deathscythe said tiredly. Shin Ryoji was a mechanic par extraordinaire, seemingly gifted with the ability to repair almost any known vehicle in record time. He was the man that kept the Deathscythe Wing flying, or at least, flight-worthy.   
  
"Yeah I know you're always sorry." Shin Ryoji said, as he pointed towards the Wraith's busted engine. "Didn't I just overhaul that very same engine last week?! Are you suicidal or just spiteful, YOINK!" Shin Ryoji stopped in mid-speech as the nervous tics took over.   
  
"YOINK! YOINK!" was all he could say, as his nervous tic took control, but anyone could see his irritation. Deathscythe shook his head slowly in a mixture of bemusement and resignation. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his green flightsuit, waiting for Shin Ryoji to act normal again.   
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see ScatteredRain's Wraith start to make its descent to the tarmac. He smiled a little at the sight. Scatt, as most people called him, was known as the worst pilot alive when it came to landing, but now as Rogziel took remote control of his plane, his approach and descent was nothing short of textbook.   
  
The girl was a marvel.   
  
"Well I guess I better fix your Wraith so you can trash it again, my lord," said Shin Ryoji as his SCV suit extracted several wicked looking pieces of shrapnel from the plane.   
  
"Then I leave you to it," Deathscythe said as he walked off, his wingmates still circling above him waiting for Rogziel to allow them to land.  
  
**********  
  
An inhuman scream of pain drew everyone's attention.   
  
"Oh, stop being a baby already!" Sarah Kozlov said, exasperated at her husband's theatrics.   
  
Leo grinned wickedly, causing Sarah to roll her eyes skywards. "Well can I see it?" he asked, slowly thrusting an open palm towards her.   
  
"Let me close that wound first," Sarah said as she brought out a wicked-looking device affectionately referred to as the "Stapler"   
  
"And no screaming this time, dear," Sarah said as she brought the device to the gaping wound. As she activated it, the device came to life with a low pitched hum, as thousands of micro fine threads started to suture the wound so quickly there was barely any time to register pain.   
  
"Okay, you're done," Sarah said, smiling. "Now don't stand up until that half-pint bag of blood is finished. And don't you even THINK about messing with the drip settings again."   
  
"Yes, dear," Leo answered in a mock-hurt tone.   
  
"I'd better take a look at the other wounded," Sarah said as she stood up to leave. "Oh yeah.. you wanted this, dear?" She knelt down and dropped a bloodied object onto Leo's palm.   
  
Leo's fingers closed around the object. He brought it closer to his face to get a real good look. It was hard, bloodied and sharp. Very sharp. Leo looked at the Zergling tooth that was so recently lodged in his chest.   
  
"Damnable Zerglings," he muttered to himself. He lay there on the ground, staring at the sky for a few minutes, then impatiently waiting for the blood to finish draining into him.   
  
Leo spent the time staring at the circling Wraiths above the Starport he liberated not a few hours ago, smiling at the sight of a job well done.   
  
"Sun's setting soon," Jing said, as he scanned the horizon with his binoculars.   
  
"You think the Zerg are going to try a night attack, sir?" asked Ryan, his tank gunner.   
  
"Who knows, mister Slicer," Jing muttered glumly. "Not like they need to care about things like night fighting tactics or objectives. There's just too many of them. If I didn't live here I'd do a Korhal and nuke them sons of cockroaches."   
  
Ryan visibly shuddered at the mention of the word "nuke". There had been talk, but Lord Deathscythe surely won't even consider nuking his own planet, would he?   
  
Jing smiled a bit. "Hey, no glumness in MY tank, Ryan. Especially when there's going to be a liberation party tonight!" Jing said as he effortlessly dismounted from his tank and made his way to the field kitchens, where the cooks were already making preparations for the night's celebrations.   
  
Deathscythe leaned back against a wall as his wingmates began their landing patterns. On the ground, Shin Ryoji and a few other SCVs were busily dismantling his damaged engine block. In a few hours, the old Wraith should be flight-worthy again.   
  
Darkainia's war machinery was expensive to manufacture and maintain, he thought grimly. Worst of all when the Zerg invaded, the Darkainians had no choice but to abandon their prized libraries. A population that prided itself on its achievements in literature, forced to watch from a distance as their libraries burned under the unrelenting march of the Zerg.   
  
Fighting men, too, were in short supply. Darkainia was fortunate that it was a choice retirement world for discharged members of the Confederation military, but still, constant fighting had worn down their numbers. Worse still, the Vespene gas that powered the Darkainians' tanks and wraiths was in short supply.   
  
It was time for a bold strike against the Zerg. Liberating the city and its Starport was merely the preparation for the upcoming operation.   
  
The first ever Darkainian offensive against a Zerg Hive Cluster. 


	3. AD Liberation ch 3

**************  
  
"Rogziel? Ghost reporting"  
  
The Adjutant's voice came back a little scratchy.  
  
"I hear you, Lt. Randall. Anything new to report?" Rogziel asked.  
  
"Well, we've mapped out 70% of this Zerg Hive Cluster, and we're about 800 meters away from the main hatchery. Zerg presence here seems minimal, just drones and zergling."  
  
"Acknowledged, Lt. Randall, I'm sure this will come into good use in the future," Rogziel answered.  
  
"Great. Tell Chris.. I mean, our Lord Deathscythe, the Ghost Squad is coming home. We'll see him on the battle lines as planned tomorrow," Randall said, as the other men kept the C-30 rifles ready.  
  
"Will do," Rogziel answered, before Randall cut the communications.  
  
The Confederate Ghosts were men and women selected from birth for psychic potential, trained to be machines of silent death. The Darkainian Ghosts were Marine rejects with C-30 rifles and a modified version of the Wraith's cloaking device built into their padded sneak-suits.  
  
Considering the limitations, Randall, Athos and Inanis were either talented, or lucky. Deathscythe had entrusted the three of them to scout ahead and report on the Hive Cluster, and they have succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. No Darkainian had ever managed to get so close to a Zerg Hatchery and lived.  
  
Randall smiled, turning to the others. "Mission complete," he said. "Let's turn around and get out of here."  
  
"Finally," said Inanis, at eighteen, he was the youngest of the three.  
  
"Back the way we came?" asked Athos, the other Ghost in Randall's squad.  
  
"Yes. Back to the edge of this Cree. If I never have to walk on this disgusting, fibrous purple creep again, it'd be too soon," Randall said, stomping on the Creep-covered ground to emphasize his point.  
  
"Sssskkkhhhrrrr……"  
  
The men's blood froze, as Randall's stomping brought the attention of a passing Zergling. It was coming their way.  
  
  
"Sssskkkhhhrrrr……"  
  
The men's blood froze, as Randall's stomping brought the attention of a passing Zergling. It was coming their way.  
"Shit! Behind this creep colony, quick!" Athos hissed as Inanis and Randall quickly scrambled behind the strange Zerg structure.  
  
The lone Zergling came to a dead stop not twenty five meters from the three Ghosts were hiding. It looked around and sniffed the air, almost suspicious.  
  
"Fuck, I've never seen Zergling do THAT," Inanis muttered as he readied his C-30 rifle.  
  
"Goddammit, no gunfire!" Randall hissed, sensing what his comrade was about to do.  
  
The Zergling made several cautious steps in the direction of the three ghosts, making strange hissing sounds as its head swung from left to right, almost as if it was scanning the horizon for enemies.  
  
"I got a headshot," Inanis said. "Call it," he said almost as an afterthought.  
  
"No!" Randall hissed, exhaling sharply.  
  
It was the final clue that the Zergling needed. Snarling, the creature broke into a run, straight towards where the three Ghosts were hiding.  
  
Inanis' eyes went wide as saucers. Fear overrode his hasty Ghost traning, and he fired off several shots of his C-30 rifle at the the creature.  
  
The bullets streaked forward, knocking the Zergling a few steps backwards.  
  
Yet it did not fall. Its carapace deflected most of the bullets, although a thin stream of blood now ran from its mouth. It was clearly bleeding. It made a few screeching noises, shaking itself angrily before it resumed its charge towards the Darkainians.  
  
"Shit!" Randall hissed as he tried to bring his own rifle to bear on the creature. However the Zergling was faster, and Randall could only manage a hasty shot which glanced off the creature's natural armor.  
  
The Zergling was on their position before anyone could fire off another round.  
  
"Scatter!" Athos shouted as the Zergling pounced on the spot where the three of them hid moments ago.  
  
Randall rolled on the soft purple Creep, quickly bringing himself to a combat crouch. The Zergling was closest to him, which meant that it was probably coming after him next. He saw the tell-tale shimmering in the air, meaning that Athos and Inanis had just activated their personal cloaking devices, making them invisible.  
  
"Come on, bitch," Randall said, gritting his teeth as the Zergling charged towards him. He hastily brought his C-30 to bear on the creature. "Just like shooting razorbacks on the farm," he reminded himself as he stared down the creature that was charging at him, its fang-rimmed mouth trickling blood and spit as the creature quickly closed the distance.  
  
Just as Randall could see the whites of the creatures eyes, he let loose, emptying his rifle's clip on the creature. It screamed in pain, before being knocked back several feet. The Zergling fell to the ground, shaking violently in its death-throes.  
  
Randall breathed a sigh of relief, hastily reaching for more ammunition in his pockets. There was no telling if there were more Zerg coming.  
  
"Guys? Athos? Inanis?" Randall called out his comrades, unaware of the new threat.  
  
Randall almost choked on his own spit when he heard the unearthly shriek coming up from above.  
  
  
  
*************** 


	4. AD Liberation ch 4

  
***************  
"What…. Is … that?" he silently mouthed the words. The creature was airborne, but it wasn't a Mutalisk or an overlord. It was broader, and it didn't so much fly as glide, its large leathery wings occasionally beating to keep it aloft. Its beady eyes was set directly above its unnaturally broad mouth, and its sharp-looking tail waved up and down as it moved.   
  
"I don't care what the hell you are," Randall said quietly to the creature as he steeled himself, raising his rifle to the sky, "If it isn't human, kill it."   
  
Randall fired a few shots to the creature that was circling the air above him. He couldn't' see Athos or Inanis without engaging his sneak suit's special optical filters, and there was no time to turn them on now. He quickly fired a series of single shots in the creature's general direction, zigzagging left and right to change his position as soon as the C-30 rifle's recoiled kicked in his hands.   
  
The creature cried out, a strange, high-pitched gurgling sound as Randall hid behind a creep colony. He took the much-needed break to reload the rifle. The C-30 was designed as a sniper's rifle, powerful and with decent range, but it was the worst thing to carry in a firefight.   
  
"It takes time to reload.. it takes time to reload," Randall muttered, almost like chanting a mantra, as the bullets in his hand jiggled from the urgency of his actions. His breath came in ragged pants, as he desperately tried to fill the bullets into the ammo clip.   
  
Things went dark around him, and it wasn't because of the setting sun. It was the Zerg creature's shadow as it swooped down on Randall from above.   
Randall would have shouted a curse, but there was no time for that. He abandoned his efforts to reload his rifle, immediately fumbling for the cloaking device control in his sneak-suit. As his body started to fade away from view, he heard the hissing and snorting sounds of Zerglings and Hydralisks, coming towards his position.   
  
"Goddammit, if an Overlord passes by us we're fucked," Athos muttered as he saw the Zerg, numbering perhaps a hundred, rushing towards his patrol's position.   
  
"Dammit Randall, quit trying to be a hero," Athos said as he shouldered his rifle, preparing to grab his commanding officer and get him away from that strange flying creature.   
  
Randall breathed a sigh of relief as the creature abruptly broke out of its attack dive. Now that he had managed to turn on his optics, he could see Athos and Inanis waving him onwards to the rocky outcropping where they were taking cover.   
  
Now that all three of them were invisible there was a chance they could escape the rampaging Zerg who were barely minutes away from their position, not to mention that strange Zerg creature that was circling the air above their heads.   
  
Randall bit his lips as he ran towards his comrades as fast as he can, the strange creature overhead screaming in an all-too-human cry of frustration.   
  
"Go! Go! Go! Back to the pick-up point! Randall shouted as soon as his comrades were in shouting range. They needed no further motivation as they shouldered their own rifles and ran in the direction of the waiting Dropship. Discretion was the better part of valor when you're a Ghost.  
  
"Go! Go! Go! Back to the pick-up point! Randall shouted as soon as his comrades were in shouting range. They needed no further motivation as they shouldered their own rifles and ran in the direction of the waiting Dropship. Discretion was the better part of valor when you're a Ghost.   
  
Athos and Inanis were making good progress, but Randall lagged a few behind, weighed down by the weight of his communications equipment. The mass of screeching and snarling Zerg were several hundred meters behind, but they were confused. They knew there were humans in the vicinity but couldn't find anything to attack.   
  
Randall kept running for what felt like an eternity until he tripped on something.   
  
The C-30 rifle dropped from his hand as he hit the Creep with a dull thud.   
  
"Sir!" Inanis shouted, as he vaulted over the rock he was waiting behind and ran towards his commander.   
  
Lying face down on the purple Creep, Randall groaned in annoyance, the wind knocked out of him. He quickly twisted his body around, pulling himself into a sitting position. His hand reached out to get his rifle, he needed it badly, what with the big bad flying Zerg creature and the horde of Zerglings and Hydralisks charging in his direction. His cloaking field isn't going to last forever.   
  
Inanis' cloaked form came into view as he ran over to where Randall fell, then he freezed in his tracks several meters away, his mouth agape in horror.   
  
Randall turned his head. How close were they, he wondered. Was his cloaking device malfunctioning after his fall. Could they actually see him now? The question popped into his mind along with a chill of total, absolute terror. Weltus Randall saw the sight at his feet and immediately leapt backwards, yelping in terror.   
  
He had tripped over the partially-buried head of a Zergling. The creature was actually burrowed into the creep, thought his panic-stricken mind. Now he knew why the Zerg had the ability to disappear at will whenever the Darkainians managed to trap them. Whenever the Darkainians liberated a village, a town.. a city… The Zerg were never truly cleansed.   
  
The Zergling was rapidly climbing out of its burrow, obviously upset at being kicked by something it couldn't quite see. It made a feral cry of rage that was quickly answered with screeches and howls from the other Zerg advancing on Weltus.   
  
'Mother.." Inanis muttered a quick prayer before pulling out his own C-30, trying to find a chink in the Zergling's armor, even as Weltus began backing away on all fours in terror. Weltus's C-30 rifle quickly became visible as he started skittering away in panic, horrified by the shock.   
  
A sharp crack rang through the air, and the Zergling reared back,crying in pain. Weltus took the opportunity to stand up, his mind was now firmly set on getting the hell away from here.   
  
"Goddammit, the Lieutenant's cracked," Athos muttered as he broke cover and rushed over to help Inanis and Weltus.   
  
Inanis heard the pounding of his own heart as he fired off round after round at the Zergling that Weltus tripped over, cursing the creature to just die, and quickly, for the other Zerg, led by that odd flying creature were getting too close for comfort. Personal cloaking might make evading the Zerg easier, but bitter experience told them that this commotion would eventually bring an Overlord's attention to the area, and once that happened, it would all be over.   
  
"Hold on, I'm coming!" Athos shouted.  
  
******   
  
"I'm coming, goddamit! Hold on!" Zoro shouted in Jing's direction as the Wraith pilot ran as fast as his tired body would allow in the direction of Jing's Siege Tank. The Lieutenant was grinning evilly at him, his head the only part of his body visible from the turret.   
  
"You know," Jing shouted in the direction of an increasingly agitated Zoro, "I could just tell Rogziel that you won't be using your quota for the week. I'm sure she'll carry it forward to next week!" he taunted as Zoro ran at his tank, visibly running out of breath.   
  
Zoro finally made his way to the tank and clambered up to the turret, giving a deathly glare at Jing, who merely grinned, sheepishly as he helped Zoro into his tank.   
  
"Hey! It was .. just.. a suggestion.. " Jing said, withering under Zoro's murderous stare. "I'll be back there with Ryan if you need me. Don't forget to put on the radioman's earset, you can't hear shit otherwise," Jing said as he hastily left his prized Siege Tank, giving the flyboy some private time.   
  
Zoro grunted in annoyance. Maneuvering Ace or no, the Jing kid sure knew how to press people's buttons. He put on the radioman's earpiece as instructed, and fiddled a little with the communications controls until he got what he was looking for.   
  
"Good evening, Lieutenant," said Rogziel, a holographic image of her face, her old face, appearing on the screen in front of him. "The usual?" Rogziel asked, a thin smile appearing on her avatar image on scren.   
  
"Yeah," Zoro answered. "Secure line to Tarsonis,please."   
  
"Sure thing, Ben," Rogziel replied cheerfully. "Your communications privilege for this week is ten standard minutes, starting from five.. four.. three.."   
  
The screen went blank as Rogziel disappeared and multicolored lines of static filled the screen. The static was quickly replaced by another image in two long seconds.   
  
Instead of Rogziel, another face appeared on the screen. It was a young woman, still in her mid-twenties, but she looked much older with the crow's feet, the deeply furrowed worry lines etched in her forehead, as well as the large reading glasses. She still had her elfin fine features, though, crowned with a lovely mop of thick, curly brown hair.   
  
She was busily scanning some sheets of paper she held in one hand even as she held a cup of something steaming hot in the other hand. So engrossed was she in reading that she didn't hear Rogziel's voice announcing "Communications Established".   
  
"Hi, Angel." Zoro whispered after several seconds.   
  
At the sound of his voice, the woman smiled, looking up at the screen as she put down her cup and the papers.   
  
"Call me Emily, Ben. Surely I deserve to be called by my birth name by now?" she asked with a playful twinkle in her eye.   
  
"Yeah, but you're still Ambassador to the Confederation and all, so…" Zoro answered.   
  
"Well then, since you've mentioned it," Angel replied, peering at him over the thick rim of her glasses. "Any new instructions from our leader, Lord Deathscythe?"   
  
Zoro paused for a moment before replying. "Well, we've secured a working Starport, so those mercenaries you've hired can land as soon as they arrive in-system, and well.. as for.. political directives…"   
  
Angel's gaze felt like laser scalpels on his skin as she urged him to go on.   
  
"Well.. Deathscythe says that he'd rather be poor and free than rich and enslaved…. So.."   
  
"So we're going to just sign away the next three year's surplus crops to the Confeds just to pay for war costs. That's not even counting the price we have to pay for the mercs," grumbled Angel. Then, she noticed the growing expression of sadness on Zoro's face.   
  
"I'm trying to kill them off as fast as I can," Zoro said, feeling a little guilty.   
  
"No. That's okay. I understand. Don't worry about the politics of it, Ben." Angel answered. "Ben, look at me. That's right. Once the Zerg are gone, and we can go back to our farm, three years will be nothing."   
  
"Yeah, I guess," Zoro answered, unsure. Three years? For the members of the Deathscythe wing, three minutes in a dogfight felt long enough.   
  
"How are things with you, Ben?" Angel asked quietly, steering the topic of conversation away from the unpleasant.   
  
"Tiring. We have to keep the Wraiths up most of the time. We're lucky Mutalisks are dumb, or we'd all…" Zoro said, not keeping his eyes off Angel. Not being able to say what he really needed to say, he changed his words in mid-sentence. "I wish I was on Tarsonis with you," he said, feeling a little embarassed at having made the confession.   
Angel giggled at the suggestion. "Well, we're going to have to come back to Darkainia anyway, at least for the poetry festival."   
  
Zoro bit his lip. "Have you written anything?" he asked.   
  
"No. I was going to finish Fallen Embers, but I don't know, the war's depressing enough. I don't think anyone wants to hear depressing poetry.."   
  
"Well, I liked it," Zoro said, "I'm not saying that 'cause we're engaged either."   
  
Angel smiled sweetly for a few seconds. Zoro stared at the image of the smiling woman, and slowly a smile of his own appeared.   
  
"You know what? Damn the Zerg, damn the war, I want you to finish your poem and read it out at the next festival" Zoro said.   
  
"That's a promise," Angel said, pausing to take a sip of her coffee.   
  
"Time's running out," Angel said, as soon as she put down her cup.   
  
"Oh." Zoro muttered glumly. "I had better save a couple minutes for emergencies."   
  
"Till next week then?" Angel asked,raising her eyebrows at him.   
  
"As sure as we're going to win the war," Zoro said.   
  
Angel pressed a button and the screed turned blue for a few seconds before Rogziel's face returned to the screen.   
  
"Hi again, Ben," Rogziel said cheerfully.   
  
Zoro grunted, as he started to climb out of Jing's tank.   
  
"A bit early, I see. Problems with the missus?" Jing taunted as Zoro pulled himself up, out of the turret hatch.   
  
"Don't you have a party or something?" Zoro asked, mild irritation in his voice.   
  
"Well, true, but Sargeant Slicer here needs to stand guard in the tank, so if you don't mind," Jing said, as he gave Ryan Slicer's shoulder a firm pat. Ryan grimaced a little, and wasn't looking too happy with the idea of being stuck in the cramped, dark tank, which smelled of gunpowder, propellant and vespene gas.   
  
"I'll walk ya to the field kitchen," Jing volunteered.   
  
The two men walked several blocks to another plaza, where amidst the hollow shells of bombed-out apartment blocks and unidentifiable bits of pieces of Zerg, the Darkanian armed forces were celebrating their latest victory.   
  
"What's with that ruckus over there?" Zoro asked, pointing to a motley assortment of Marines and firebats gathering round a makeshift fire.   
  
"Well now, let's see," Jing said, squinting into the crowd. "Well well well, I see Hiraishin, and where there's Hiraishin…'   
  
"There's an opportunity for you to lose even more money," Zoro interrupted, finishing Jing's sentence for him as the blue eyed lieutenant started to scowl. "Heh heh," laughed the Wraith pilot, "You know, you could just quit. Even the Deathscythe wing knows about your 20-0 losing streak."   
  
Jing scowled, muttering darkly about vengeance as he made his way to Hiraishin.   
  
"Fool and his money…" Zoro called out to the rapidly retreating backside of the Manoeuvring Ace. He shrugged his broad shoulders and continued walking alone to the field kitchen.   
  
He paused for a few seconds, catching a glimpse of the setting sun on the horizon, its fading red rays shining through the holes punched through the walls of an unidentifiable building.   
  
"Makes it all worth it," he said, smiling.  
  
********  
  
Away from the celebrations, three Ghosts were wondering if they were going to see the dawn.   
  
Panting and wheezing, Athos ran harder and harder trying to reach Lt. Randall and Inanis, who were bogged down against the strange flying Zerg creature and the burrowed Zergling. The sun had already set over the horizon, and his goggles had automatically switched to night vision, which drew power from the same power system that kept his cloaking field up. Time was running short.   
  
The strange flying creature that was previously just circling ominously screeched and began its attack dive. Athos gasped, as he brought his rifle to bear on the creature. Inanis would just have to take out that Zergling by himself.   
  
Praying that the universe would just give him a few seconds more, Inanis kept shooting at the creature. But its thick natural armor deflected most of his shots, and although badly wounded it was still wildly swining its claws left and right, trying to find its cloaked attackers. Randall kept crawling away from the scene, blind panic making it impossible for him to react any other way.   
  
And the horde of Zerg creatures kept closing the distance.   
  
As the creature dove down onto the Ghosts' position, Athos fired off a few shots of his own. As expected, it didn't kill the creature outright, but he bit his lips in grim satisfaction when he heard it scream.   
  
Then his eyes widened in terror when he heard it gurgle, an inhuman churning sound in the sky that brought forth visions of inhuman terror. The creature spat out a bright green ball on the humans' position, then did a sharp bank left, and flapped its bat-like wings, climbing into the air. Its deadly gift fell from the sky at such speed that Athos could barely register its shape before it hit the ground.   
  
On impact, the wad of bright green spit splattered over the area, covering Randall, Inanis and the Zergling with a sticky, bright green slime.   
  
Athos looked on in horror as the slime clung to his comrades, nullifying their cloaking devices, the two men now visible as bright green humanoid shapes.   
  
The Zerg horde made various excited gibbering and hissing noises as the hydralisks came within spitting range of Inanis and Randall.   
  
Already razor sharp hydralisk spines were flying towards the humans. Inanis turned to run, and Randall got up to his feet, the same intent evident in his terrified eyes, but the slime stuck to them, and the ground was full of the same sticky stuff, forcing them to practically wade in the sticky goo.   
  
"Fuck. Inanis! Behind you!" Athos shouted a warning. It was futile.   
  
To Inanis' horror, the Zergling pounced on him from behind, seemingly unaffected by the sticky Zerg slime, knocking him down to the ground as its claws started to dig bloody red furrows into his flesh. He valiantly tried to knock it off him with the butt of his rifle, but it was futile. Within seconds the rest of the Zerg had arrived, swarming the two. The men screamed in pain as claws and teeth began to shred them into ribbons.   
  
The cloaked Athos merely stood there several meters away, the sight of the Zerg devouring his comrades forever burned into his soul. It was too much for anyone. His resolve was broken, and he ran away as fast as he could, not even caring about direction anymore, chucking aside his rifle to make him run faster.   
  
Eventually he got far enough away that the death screams of his comrades stopped ringing in his ears.   
  
******* 


	5. AD Liberation ch 5

"Sun's going down," Leo Kozlov said softly, answered by an idle hum from his wife. Leo idly turned his head to see what she was doing.   
  
"Hey, get a room," he said, a naughty leer crawling up his face.   
  
"The battle armor goes off, no more, no less," Sarah said, before adding a playful "pervert". She deftly unlocked the pneumatic bolts and latches that held her white medic's armor together, unhurriedly pulling off the interlocking ceramic plates one by one until she was out in the cool twilight air again, sweat drenching her standard issue uniform.   
  
"Ah, much better," she said, neatly gathering her armor and storing them in a large box. The pair had settled in a blasted out building, their meager posessions haphazardly placed on the rubble-strewn floor.   
  
"Oh come on, Leo. Don't tell me you're wearing battle armor to the liberation party?" Sarah asked, rolling her eyes at her husband.   
  
"Yup. There's a war on, and I am not taking it off till the war's over," he said as he slung the standard issue Gauss rifle over his shoulder.   
  
"Fine, just remember there's stuff you can't do with me till the armor comes off," Sarah said, playfully patting his chestplate as she stepped out of the building.   
  
"Dammit."   
  
Sarah ignored her husband's silliness and made her way to the liberation celebrations. Three field kitchens were positively swarmed by the hungry Darkainians.   
  
"Hmm…." Sarah bit her lip. They were dividing people up by service again, which was fine with the Army boys and the marines, but the sight of twelve members of the Deathscythe Wing plus their mechanics in the SCV suits taking an entire field kitchen for themselves is a little silly.   
  
The waiting was mercifully short in the Army lines, as a tired-looking man listlessly dumped mystery meat, murdered potatoes and mud gravy on her plate, muttering "no eating till El Dee gives his speech, NEXT!"   
  
"Why thank you," Sarah said, as she leaned over to read the name sewn on the cook's uniform "…Private Grimmy." She chuckled to herself at the silly names her fellow Darkainians gave themselves. Maybe some things just need some adjusting to, but the Darkainian custom of having two names was just odd. And the things they called themselves!   
  
Sarah went to the Marine line, where her husband had just left the lines, a metal tray of something in his hands.   
  
"What'd you get?" Sarah asked.   
  
"Lima beans and Hydralisk bits," Leo answered.   
  
"Yummy. Wanna trade?" she asked, smiling brightly at him. He was always the fussy eater.   
  
"Sure thing, but let's sit down somewhere and see what our beloved leader has to say first, okay?" Leo answered, eyeing the makeshift stage where the Darkainians were already gathering.   
  
A hushed silence broke out over the plaza as a spotlight was turned on.   
  
Chris Smith, or better known to his people as the Lord Deathscythe, hurriedly scampered across the stage, his eyes hidden behind opaque aviator goggles.   
  
"Heh, look at that. Seems he's learned his lesson with the lights," Leo commented, grinning snidely at the memory of the last time.   
  
"Shhh. Quiet, I want to hear him speak," Sarah whispered harshly, loud enough to cause quite a few heads to turn in their direction.   
  
Lord Deathscythe stood in front of the microphone, squinting behind his goggles as he surveyed the proud ranks of his military assembled before him. He hated addressing the people, he had hated it when he ascended the planetary throne, and he still hates it today.   
  
"Welcome to the newly liberated city of Port Arthur!" he exclaimed proudly, punching his arm in the air in a gesture of triumph. Spontaneous cheers erupted from the men. "If there is anyone here from Port Arthur, I bid you welcome home," he said as the men erupted in another spontaneous cheer.   
  
Lord Deathscythe smiled. "Port Arthur marks the turning point. No longer will we be driven from our homes, our farms, our cities. Not by the Zerg, not by anyone!"   
  
There was some applause. "The sun sets on the Zerg.. today!" he said forcefully, his finger pointing at the last rays of the setting sun. "Come dawn, we will take the fight to the Zerg. We will come upon them, in their hives and wherever the scourge infests our planet, we shall strike them down with great vengeance!"   
  
A roar of approval surged through the crowd. Ken Sohryu was right, Deathscythe thought. After an easy victory you can tell the men anything and they'll swallow it whole.   
  
"Twenty kilometers away lies an ugly scar on the face of our beautiful planet. The Zerg have dared to construct one of their hives, right under our noses. Will you accept that insult, fellow Darkainians?"   
  
A thunderous "No!" roared in response to the question.   
  
"Will you join me in cleaning this planet of the infestation?" Deathscythe asked again, a slight tremor in his own voice as he found the men's enthusiasm infectious.   
  
For a war-weary Marine captain though, the only thing he could do was groan. Leo turned towards Sarah, who sat there on the ground, gently shaking her head at the primitive propaganda methods the Darkainian ruler was using.   
  
"Goddammed air scout," Leo muttered. "Makes everything sound easy."   
  
"Shh, honey," Sarah replied. "That's his job."   
  
Leo shook his head again. By the looks of things, tomorrow wasn't going to be a good day.  
  
It was close to 2300 hours when Jing wandered back to his tank.   
  
"Welcome back, sir" greeted Ryan Slicer at the sight of the lieutenant's grouchy expression.   
  
"Stop being cheerful," was Jing's grouchily mumbled answer.   
  
"Twenty one to zero, sir?" Ryan asked, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance as Jing climbed up onto the tank's turret.   
  
"How the fuck was I to know that the little clear scorpion was the deadliest species on Darkainia?" grumbled Jing. "Last time I listen to the Marines," he muttered as he settled in the commander's seat.   
  
"Am I relieved, sir?" Ryan asked.   
  
"Yes. We move at 0300 sharp, so don't stay too long in dreamland" Jing said, as his gunner leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and tried to dream.   
  
A similar scene played out in each of the four tanks that were sieged in the middle of the square.   
  
"We missed the victory party, didn't we?" Shin Ryoji asked, not really caring what the answer would be, but he had been looking on the ugly end of a Wraith thruster for two hours straight and he needed a break.   
  
Shin Ryoji opened his SCV suit's visor and took several steps back, looking at the newly rebuilt, overhauled and cleaned Wraith engine. It was an excellent repair job, made faster by the specialized equipment the Starport had, as well as the abundant supply of spare parts.   
  
"Hey, anyone around?" Shin Ryoji looked left and right for signs of his comrades.   
  
They were gathered in a circle on the starport tarmac, eating dinner.   
  
"Oi! Get back to work you choads!" Shin Ryoji shouted. "You all in the Army now!"   
  
"We're done, chief," one of the men shouted back over the communications line in Ryoji's suit. It sounded like Jon Cook, but the sound was so badly crackled he couldn't be sure.   
  
"Well imagine that. I'm getting old," Ryoji muttered grimly. Age must really be catching up on him when the junior SCVs can finish their repairs before him. Shrugging, he retracted various tools back into the arms of his SCV suit, as he walked over to the group.   
  
"Big day tomorrow," he reminded himself. It never pays to postpone dinner, you never know when your next meal is coming. He took a glance at the control tower of the starport, where he could see the oulines of human figures up in the brightly lit air traffic control room.   
  
"Eager little beavers, them flyboys," he commented wryly.   
  
The members of the Deathscythe Wing were already gathered in the control tower of the starport, circling a large holographic map of the Zerg Hive cluster.   
  
"Right, before I start, it's only fair that I break out the bad news first," Deathscythe said, gazing at the faces of his eleven wingmates. "Rogziel just informed me that the Zerg found and destroyed Weltus' transport ship. We haven't had contact with them for almost five hours. I'm afraid we must assume the worst."   
  
The pilots of the Deathscythe Wing mumbled grimly in reply.   
  
"Poor Weltus," said Asmodeus, wiping away cold sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his flightsuit.   
  
"You mean Weltall, don't you?" questioned Jag Rain, reminding the assembled pilots of the fallen Ghost's chosen name.   
  
"Either way, Jag, we'll miss him. He was the nicest guy ever," Ken Sohryu said.   
  
"Weltus Randall will be remembered. A hero of our liberation," Deathscythe said with an air of grim finality, before gripping the edges of the table firmly. He leaned slightly over it, the light of the projected holomap on the table illuminating his pale face, giving it a surreal, ghostly glow.   
  
"This is the last transmission from Weltus and his patrol. It corresponds with our comsat sweeps of the area. You can see the big central hive here," Deathscythe said, pausing momentarily to fish out a laser pointer from his flight suit pocket before continuing. "Note its proximity to the foothills of the Blue Taboo Mountains. Rogziel's human side thinks it might have something to do with the natural deposits of minerals there, but her computer side lacks sufficient data to back it up."   
  
"That's my girl," Ken Sohryu beamed proudly.   
  
"Well not QUITE a girl," Jag muttered darkly.   
  
"Only till the end of the war, asshat," Ken snarled back. "War's over, we unplug her from the planetary systems, she and I walk the aisle in the Citadel, happily ever after. Period."   
  
"Umm guys, let's get back to the mission here?" interrupted Soulfire.   
  
"Thank you, Soulfire," Deathscythe said, staring daggers at Ken and Jag. Nodding in thanks once to the blonde Soulfire, Deathscythe pointed to a strange mushroom-like structure.   
  
"Take a look at this thing." He simply said, nudging the pointer's red laser to encircle the Zerg structure. "This thing, this spire,"   
  
"What about it?" Asmodeus asked.   
  
"That was the image that we got during comsat sweeps," Deathscythe said, as his left hand flicked a switch. The image of the spire de-rezzed and was quickly replaced by another image. "This is what Weltus reported".   
  
Ken's jaw dropped in awe. "It's gotten bigger."   
  
"Not only that," Deathscythe continued. "In his last transmission Weltus said that this spire seemed to be some kind of Mutalisk nest. He reported a constant stream of Mutalisks flying in and out of the thing. Plus some other things he couldn't identify,"   
  
"Guardians?" asked Jag.   
  
"I repeat, things he couldn't identify," Deathscythe said, casting a sideways glance and Jag.   
  
"We're taking this thing out ourselves, boss?" asked Asmodeus.   
  
"With extreme prejudice. But we're sticking to the current battle plan until the ground troops have the situation under control. Then we take this thing out." Deathscythe said.   
  
"It isn't too late to change the battle plan," cautioned Soulfire as some of the other pilots nodded in agreement.   
  
"No. We stick to the plan," Deathscythe said grimly. "But that thing is our first target. I think Jing and his tanks will have more immediate targets to shoot at."   
  
Asmodeus chuckled with bloodthirsty anticipation while Jag and Soulfire made hemmed and hawed.   
  
"This concludes our briefing," Deathscythe said abruptly. "I expect everyone to wait the go signal in your respective planes. The SCVs will fix up whatever damage they can. Everyone moves at 0300. Good luck."   
  
The assorted pilots quietly filed out of the door, a couple of them glancing at their watches and groaning inwardly when they saw that the time was 15 minutes past midnight.   
  
Deathsycthe watched his pilots leave, then he found a chair and tiredly sat down in front of the air traffic controller's consoles Punching a few keys brought forth Rogziel's voice.   
  
"Good morning. How may I help you?" Rogziel's voice echoed in the empty room.   
  
"Where are the ships? Are you sure we've activated the hyperspace beacons?" Deathsycthe asked.   
  
"The hyperspace beacons have been lit for three hours, fifty three minutes and eleven seconds. The signal is currently being sent out with signal decay in acceptable boundaries." Rogziel intoned.   
  
"Then where the hell is Episode?" Deathscythe asked, biting his lip, his fingers drumming against the cold metal armrests of his chair.   
  
"No data. I'm sorry," Rogziel answered.   
  
"Thank you,adjutant." Deathscythe said.   
  
"You should get some sleep, you know," Rogziel commented.   
  
"Thank you, adjutant," Deathscythe said, with an edge in his voice, as he switched off communications. Deathscythe gazed up at the stars, cursing silently.   
  
"This is not part of the scenario I envisioned," Deathscythe muttered darkly in the empty room.   
  



	6. AD Liberation ch 6

  
  
"0230 and all is well," announced a female voice over Jing's headset. He groaned.   
  
"Yes, Sergeant Chare, thank you for the update, I think it's safe to reduce the frequency of the updates now," Jing replied.   
  
Chare's response was instant. "Yes sir Lieutenant Jing sir, I'll keep your heads up every twenty minutes instead of ten if that's okay with you sir or would you like it if I made it thirty minutes instead sir?"   
  
"Did you say all that in one breath, Sergeant?" Jing asked, curious despite his tiredness.   
  
He mentally slapped himself when he realized that he had triggered another rapid fire response from Chare.   
  
"Yeah, uh-huh, is there anything wrong with the way I speak sir, because I don't think I'm talking any different than the way I talk to Crimson and she's never mentioned anything about the way I talk, no sir, not that I remember since the war started, is there anything I should be concerned about the way I talk Lieutenant Jing sir?"   
  
"Uh…" Jing muttered something in an attempt to come up with a coherent response and failing utterly.   
  
"Sir, I can't make out what you're saying, sir," Chare replied over the radio, slightly louder than usual.   
  
Then he saw the sleeping form of Ryan Slicer besides him. He rudely shoved him awake.   
  
"Wha, huh? No, Kate not in public," mumbled Slicer before he returned to reality.   
  
The radio headset was rudely thrust in his hands.   
  
"You're driving all the way to the zerg hive," hissed Jing, "And you're going to be talking to Chare along the way, cause she's got point. Wake me up when we get there,"   
  
Confused and not a little bit reluctant, Ryan Slicer put on the radio and was immediately treated to an earful of Chare.   
  
"..hello, hey is anyone there, why is everyone quiet huh? Is there anything I can do? Maybe I can hop over to your tank and fix your radio, or if you guys are lonely we can come and chat, I can wake Crimson up if I have to come over there, do you guys need me over there? Do you?"   
  
Ryan Slicer mouthed a silent curse as he saw his commanding officer lean back in his seat, grabbing some necessary sleep, while he had to put up .. with Chare. 


	7. AD Liberation ch 7

STARCRAFT

Liberation

Part 2 : Storm

Captain Leo Kozlov of the Darkainian Marines made his final preparations. A cursory check of his Gauss rifle and combat armor was unnecessary, since he had done this countless times already, but it gave him something to do.

He glanced at the men, all huddled together, leaning against the burnished steel walls of the Dropship. He could tell the looks of fear and frustration on their faces, and he understood their feelings well. The Marines didn't fear death as long as there was a fighting chance. However, what chance did they have on board an unarmed transport ship?

Leo preferred to entrust his life in his own hands and Gauss rifle, not in the hands of the glamour boys of the Deathscythe Wing.

A voice on the communications line in his battle armor caught his attention.

"Attention, this is your pilot speaking,"

"We are beginning drop procedures. The LZ does not appear hot, repeat, does not appear hot." Said the pilot.

"I've got a Citadel for sale somewhere in Darkainia if you believe that," Leo brashly replied, eliciting mirthful chuckles from the men. Leo tried hard, really hard, not to laugh himself. The marines assumed landing positions, cocking their rifles and taking off the safeties. Each man was expected to hit the ground with all guns blazing.

Epyon cut down on the throttle of his Wraith, slowing his plane down to keep it in formation with the slower moving dropships. Around him, his wingmates flew in a tight escort formation, keeping the vulnerable transports safe from Zerg attack. Outnumbered by the Zerg, the Darkainians relied on two things that kept them alive so far: superior mobility of their limited forces, and the Deathscythe Wing maintaining air superiority.

"We're approaching the hive, look alive, people," cautioned Soulfire. The wraith pilot was right, ahead of them was the Blue Taboo mountains, and the ground underneath them was already starting to look different. Instead of the lush greenery and fertile meadows, the ground took an increasingly purplish hue, the vegetation thinning out the further the planes went, until it was totally purple, the Zerg Creep having fully taken over. In the distance were various Zerg constructs, the spore and sunken colonies, the various bulbous, living structures whose purpose was still a mystery, and at the very center, the central hive, where the Zerg milled around, seemingly without purpose. Overlords were soon appearing on radar, and the further into Zerg territory the humans flew, the more agitated the Overlords became.

"They're on to us!" warned Zoro. He was right. The Overlords were making a beeline towards the planes.

"Okay, that's as far as we can go. Drop the marines and turn back for Port Arthur. We'll take it from here," ordered Deathscythe, as he sped ahead of his wingmates, eager for combat.

"Hey boss, I've got Mutalisks coming out from that weird structure," cautioned Asmodeus.

"I see them on radar. That's a lot of bogeys," confirmed Ken Sohryu.

"Waiting the go from you, boss," Jag Rain added, as he briefly glanced over his shoulder, confirming that the dropships are landing.

"All right. We take out as many floating brains as we can, then we cloak and waste the mutalisks." Deathscythe said. Then, biting his lips in determination, he barked out the order.

"Go!"

At his command, twelve Wraiths hit their afterburners, charging with seemingly mad abandon at the Zerg Overlords.

"This is going to hurt…" Leo muttered darkly to himself as he felt the dropship make its landing run. Then, as soon as the dropships were close enough to the ground, the landing ramp opened, letting in a blast of air into the hold, which was the signal for the men to get ready to storm out of the dropships as soon as it touched land.

In another dropship, Lieutenant Jing and the rest of the siege tanks had already started their engines. Jing had already put his tank in first gear, his left hand feeling cold and clammy on the controls, as his right hand adjusted his helmet. Ryan Slicer, his gunner, sat behind him, intently staring at the turret controls.

"Everyone, get set to rock and roll!" Jing exclaimed over the radio, as the purple infested ground loomed closer and closer.

With seemingly perfect coordination, the five dropships landed on the soft spongy mass that was the Zerg Creep, as plumes of grey smoke emanated from their exhaust vents, thrusters whining in protest as the dropships hovered several inches off the ground.

"Go! Go! Go!" Leo ordered, the men charging out of the hold of the dropship on to the ground. Satisfied that there was no man left behind, he broke out into a run, his boots making loud clanging noises, which changed to a soft, muddy squelching sound as he leapt on to the Creep.

The tanks had already dropped, and Jing's tanks were already rolling forward to their first target, a large, cavernous structure that had an unusually large concentration of hydralisks around it.

The marines wearily scanned the horizon, their rifles slowly arcing left and right, fingers tensely resting on the triggers. Jing and the tanks slowly inched forward, as the last of the dropships discharged its passengers.

No sooner than the last SCV disembarked off the landing ramp, the dropships took off again and turned back towards the Starport, their thrusters leaving hot trails of vapor and smoke in their wake. Ahead of them, the dark grey shapes of the Deathscythe wing sped ahead, racing towards a group of Overlords.

"Let's go!" commanded Leo, as the infantry packed up and broke out into a run, ahead of Jing's tanks. The infantry's task was to keep Jing's tanks safe from any retaliatory action from the Zerg.

"Hey anyone see anything? Is everything okay out there? I don't see anything unusual, I guess that's good but you have to be sure, you know?" said Chare's voice over the communications.

Leo groaned at her verbosity.

"No, sergeant Chare, I don't think, we have any problems.. yet" he replied. The tanks slowly rumbled behind the infantry, trying to get in range. In the distance, the hydralisks stirred.

Up in the sky, the Deathscythe wing pilots simultaneously released their Gemini missiles at a group of three Overlords. Each Wraith carried several hundred of these small, unguided missiles. The Zerg had no exhaust trails, making heat-seekers useless, and the sheer number of Zerg fliers often meant the Wraiths would run out of missiles before the battle was over.

"Hah! Die you stupid sacs of shit!" shouted Asmodeus as the missiles impacted, and the three overlords exploded into a red mass of blood and meat.

"Lots more sacs of shit to kill, guys," Soulfire reminded as he fired a few bursts of laser fire into an overlord, then putting his plane in a steep climb, banking left to circle round for another go with the Geminis.

"Goddamit, we've got a few mutalisks in range already," said Ken Sohryu, "I'm taking care of them," he said, pulling away from the slaughter of overlords, firing several missiles at the mutalisks.

The Mutalisks, as expected, spat out their Glaive Wurms, but Ken had already expected the attack, and a simple dive was all it took to avoid it. Gritting his teeth, he pulled hard on the controls, breathing hard as the G-forces took its toll on him, as his plane came up from under the Mutalisks, he let loose with a barrage of missiles.

"Hell yeah," Ken muttered as the mutalisks exploded above him, showering his canopy with blood and mutalisk bits.

As the sky above them became criss-crossed with the vapour trails of the wraiths, the men on the ground steadily made their way to the target, while the mass of hydralisks too made its way towards the tanks and marines.

"Doesn't look good, Jing," said Kirby, one of the tank drivers. "We'd better siege now before those mo-fos get too close."

"Push forward a little more, and siege when I say the word," replied Leo. "Got that, guys?" he said, glancing behind him to look at the tanks, emphasizing his point.

Without saying another word, Leo led the tanks and marines forward, then suddenly stopped. He raised his arm to signal a stop.

"Feel that?" He asked.

The marines made various assorted noises, but Kirby was the first to reply. "You mean shaking?"

"Yeah," Leo replied. "Something's wrong." The ground seemed to tremble underneath his boots, slightly, but he could feel it. The rumbling got stronger and stronger, as the ground beneath them started to shake and tremble.

Leo bit his lips, cursing his luck. There was no taking chances here on Zerg territory. "All right, siege up!" he ordered.

"Zerg stampede!!" shouted a firebat in alarm. Yet the mass of hydralisks in front of them were still too far away to cause such a calamitous shaking of the ground.

In his tank, Jing couldn't believe the order. "Siege up? What the fuck is he thinking?" he bitterly complained to himself. They were still too far away to hit any of the predetermined targets.

"Sieging as ordered," Ryan Slicer said, his hand already reaching to the lever that started the tank's siege mode.

Suddenly, all around the humans, the ground erupted from underneath them, throwing the men into disarray. Marines and firebats were thrown to the ground, a few struggling to stay on their feet, the heavy battle armor they wore throwing off their sense of balance.

"Stay in formation goddammit!" Leo ordered as he recovered his footing.

A panicked scream came in through the communications line.

"Captain! Zerg! Aaaaaggggghhh!!"

"Fuck." Leo said, looking around him.

The men and tanks were now surrounded by Zerglings, who leered menacingly, snarling in rage at the terrified humans.

"They came up… from under us," someone said.

"I can see that, Private Syndikos" Leo replied, cocking his rifle at the nearest creature. "You know what to…ugh!"

Leo didn't have the time to finish the sentence before a Zergling pounced on him from behind, knocking him to the ground. As its sharp claws started to pound at his battle armor, the other Zergling took their cue to attack, pouncing with rabid, mindless rage at the nearest target of opportunity.

Several men were instantly overwhelmed, as they were pounced upon by five or six Zergling at once. Their screams drowned out everything else on the Marines' communicators.

In his tank, Jing swallowed hard in disbelief. Right in front of him, in the middle of going into Siege Mode no less, Zergling burst out of the ground, attacking the marines who were supposed to be protecting his tank. Around him, the whirring of hydraulics slowed down and stopped, as the Darkainian Siege Tanks finished entering siege mode. Five powerful Arclite cannons pointed ahead, their devastating firepower all-but useless now, unable to help the desperate Marines without killing them in the blast as well.

"Goddammit.." Jing muttered. He could see that the Marines were having a hard time, their rifles almost useless at such close range. While the Firebats present would usually love to let loose with their Perdition flamethrowers at any unfortunate creature that came too close, being in such close proximity to their comrades presented the danger of accidentally burning Marines as well as Zerg.

"Sir, shall I unsiege?" Ryan Slicer asked, fear pushing his voice up an octave.

Jing bit his lip briefly, shaking his head.

"Screw that ,mister Slicer. All tanks, this is Jing. Prepare for bombardment! Target those Hydralisks coming our way!"

Immediately the others protested.

"But what about the men?" Chare asked, panic in her voice.

"Marines are tough little fuckers," Jing replied coldly. "But we can't handle zerglings and hydralisks at once."

"Yes, sir," replied Kirby, a little disappointed, but his tank was the first to fire, a thunderous boom coming from his tank as an Arclite shell ejected at high speed and arched through the air, landing smack in the middle of a Hydralisk pack, sending bits of Zerg flying through the air.

The sound and fury of the initial blast caught the attention of the Zergling attacking the Marines. While most continued slashing, biting and clawing at the unfortunate humans, a few others immediately stopped to turn in the direction of Jing and the other tanks, hissing menacingly.

The situation on the ground did not go unnoticed in the skies above, however the members of the Deathscythe Wing had their own problems.

Asmodeus swallowed hard, his hand violently jerking the joystick left and right, trying to avoid the flying Glaive Wurms the Mutalisks were blindly spitting out. He snarled as his target came into sight - a big, red overlord. He had already fired ten missiles at it, but somehow the floating brain didn't die, and worse still every time Asmodeus made his approach, a wall of Mutalisks would fly between him and the Overlord. It was as if it knew what he was planning.

Asmodeus was never too proud to radio a comrade for help. "Jag.. Jag! This is Tom. I need some help with the Big Red one here.." he said, as he fired a short burst of Geminis at the Mutalisks, who were once again gathering around the Overlord, forming a gauntlet of Glaive Wurms around the Overlord.

"Coming your way, Asmo," Jag replied, his plane levelling out, his approach vector now parallel with Asmodeus. No sooner did they come within sight of the Overlord, the Mutalisks immediately charged towards them, spitting out their deadly Glaive Wurms. Asmodeus sighed inwardly, his hand pushing hard on the joystick as he brought his plane into a dive to avoid getting hit.

For Jag "Scattered" Rain, however, dodging was not in his plan. Asmodeus could only gaze in shock as his wingmate hit full thrusters, his cloaked Wraith running the gauntlet of flying Glaive Wurms. A thin trail of smoke appeared out of seeming thin air, proof positive that his Wraith had been hit.

"Goddamn it," Asmodeus muttered, as he brought his Wraith back into an attack run. Then before his bewildered eyes he saw Jag de-cloak, the dark gray shape of the Wraith charging straight at the big red Overlord, as well as its Mutalisk protectors.

"Jag! Pull out!" Asmodeus screamed in panic.

"Trust me! Trust me this fucking once!" Jag's voice came in over the radio, attracting the attention of everyone in the Deathscythe Wing.

"Jag! No! You're not LD! You can't fly like him!" Zoro shouted, but unfortunately his plane was too far away to affect Jag's plan in any way.

Jag gritted his teeth, ignoring the shaking and shuddering of his plane as the mutalisks spat out a steady stream of Glaive Wurms. He kept a steady course, the mutalisks growing larger and larger in his field of vision. He steeled himself as he got closer and closer, until his computers produced a steady beeping sound.

"Missile locks active," said Rogziel's voice. Jag smiled, a thin, dry sneer as he turned off the computer targeting, simultaneously arming his missiles. Thin wisps of smoke were rising from the instrument panels, and the engine's roar was starting to turn into a whine as the plane shook and staggered straight towards the Overlord in what seemed to be a last, futile charge.

The Mutalisks now were so close that there was no way Jag's plane could avoid any more Glaive Wurms. They cried out a high pitched, whining cry that sounded triumphant.

Then Jag let loose with every Gemini Missile left on his plane.

The rest was now up to destiny.

Executor of the Protoss Fleet, Avalon stared intently at the image of the planet in front of him. His pale yellow eyes glowed with interest as his attention was drawn to a disturbance on the planet surface.

"Bring me the details for this area," he said, the natural echoing of the protoss voice amplified in the room. Executor Avalon narrowed his eyes in annoyance, cursing himself for using mouth-speak. He relaxed a little, opening his mind to the psychic waves that the Protoss used to communicate. While he kept some of his thoughts private, as is only proper for an Executor, he made sure his words was heard by all the Templar warrior on board the mighty Protoss Carrier.

Within a few seconds, the image changed. The skies were filled with dying and exploding Mutalisks and Overlords, while the ground shook with explosions, as a mass of Zerg creatures raced forward to engage and overwhelm a determined Terran battle formation.

"Interesting, the Terrans are not as weak as expected," a voice came to him through mind-speak. "Although, I, Glensather, feel a sense of sadness at their inevitable destruction. Perhaps if we sallied forth, it would prove Tassadar's theory correct?"

Avalon considered Glensather's proposal. Glensather's own Scout wing, combined with the Terrans, would probably make short work of the Zerg in this battle.

In this battle... the thought repeated itself in Avalon's head.

"Do you wish to test the strength of the Terrans, my Executor? Our Scouts hunger to do battle with the enemy," Glensather asked.

A few moments of silence passed between the two. Avalon did not need to use the Protoss senses of empathy to gauge Glensather's eagerness for battle.

But it had to wait.

Avalon spoke through mind-speak, but he did not take his eyes off the ongoing battle. "We shall wait, as ordered by Executor Tassadar. If the terrans prove unable to cleanse the scourge,"

"We will intervene?" Glensather gently intruded, his psychic whisper heard by Avalon and him alone.

"No. We will cleanse this planet with fire." Avalon answered.

"Get… OFF!!" Leo shouted with an almost animal fury, as he violently twisted his body, the butt of his rifle smashing into the head of the Zergling that had tackled him down to the ground. The creature screeched in pain, the force of the blow throwing it off him, but it quickly righted itself, and it stood several feet away, already tensing to pounce on him.

"Fuck you and die," Leo whispered harshly before emptying so much ammunition into the creature, its dead body was already smoking before it hit the ground.

He exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down, even though his heart felt like it wanted to burst out of his battle armor and run back home screaming. Grabbing a spare ammunition clip for his Gauss rifle, he frantically surveyed the carnage around him. Experience told him that some of the men were already lost causes, that despite the frantic flailing of arms and legs underneath the pile of ravenous, murderous Zerg, that their part in the war was over.

A few other Marines did the smart thing and ran towards the nearest standing Firebat. These men, almost always chosen for having a psychotic streak, did not fear being face to face with the snarling Zergling. Armed with Perdition flame throwers, these men relished being close enough to Zergling, loved the sight of the slavering creatures just before they were burned to a crisp.

And it was the Firebats now who kept the Marines alive, lashing with tounges of fire at any Zergling that was fool enough to approach. Even so, fire was no respecter of species, and the Marines had to be careful not to get torched themselves, as they ran towards their fire-spewing comrades.

Some other Marines grouped together, back to back, not allowing the Zergling to come at them from behind.

Spotting movement out of the corner of his eye, Leo spun around, and let loose a short burst from his Gauss rifle, scoring direct hits.

Only to be ignored. The Zergling took the bullets, but instead of immediately turning to attack him, it ran on, towards the helpless Siege Tanks.

Worse of all, Leo noticed that several other Zerglings were following its lead.

Not sparing the time to curse, he started running, shouting breathlessly into the Marines' communicators. "Hiraishin! Grimmy! Daemon! Stop them before they reach the tanks!"

Inside the Siege Tanks, the crewmen looked on at the sight of the onrushing Zerg with some consternation. In Siege Mode, the arclite cannons required a minimum distance from the target in order to hit. If the Zergling got too close, their tanks will be helpless before the claws, which given enough time, can shred even tank armour.

But without orders to go back to Tank Mode, all the men inside the tanks could do was watch. And carry out their previous orders.

"Arclite loaded!" shouted Ryan Slicer, his fingers shaking a hair's breadth away from the trigger. "Say the word!" he bellowed, looking expectantly at Jing.

"Same target as before!" Jing shouted. "Fire!"

A loud boom and a flash erupted out of five Siege Tanks simultaneously, but the Marines were used to it, and the Zergling didn't care.

Off in the distance, the remnants of the Hydralisk pack were vaporized in an explosion of hot plasma.

"Whoo hoo.. cooking with gas, gassiness makes fire, fire fire!!!" babbled the firebat known as Daemon, as he finally caught up with a Zergling, wasting no time to fry the alien creature to a crisp, cackling viciously as the creature screamed in pain, then fell to the ground.

"Fucking crazy firebat," muttered Hiraishin as he dropped to one knee, firing long bursts from his Gauss rifle, peppering the Zergling with bullets. Yet onwards they raced towards Jing and the other siege tanks, even though they left behind footsteps soaked in their own blood.

As Daemon broke into a run, chasing after the Zergling, Grimmy and Leo looked at each other briefly, shrugged and followed the firebat, screaming in a mixture of wild exhiliration and black rage.

"Let's Burrrrnnn!!! Burninating the villages, Burninating the peasants, burninate the Zerg and their little thatched roof cottages!!" Shouted Daemon, half-singing, half-screaming, his Perdition flamethrower spraying a wide arc in front of him, catching several Zergling in one sweep of his arms.

Whatever Zergling Daemon didn't reduce to a smoking pile of charcoal, Grimmy and Hiraishin mowed down with full automatic fire from their Gauss rifles.

The tanks were saved, and after several more minutes of intense fighting, all the remaining Zergling were killed.

Leo stood in the middle of the carnage, surveying the losses the Zergling ambush cost his men. Medics were already tending to the wounded, helping them get back to battle-ready status, but the dead numbered almost a quarter of his men.

Brushing off the morbid thoughts that came with being hit so badly so early in the battle, he waved the signal to the Siege Tanks to go back to Tank Mode. The Darkainians were going to push forward, now that the Zergling were destroyed, and the hydralisk pack that was approaching withered down into a pathetic-looking mass of crawling, half-dead creatures.

There was just one thing that bugged him. Walking purposefully towards his man, he found the firebat Daemon standing over the charred, smoking husk of a Zergling. His Perdition flamethrower was lit and ready, as he repeatedly kicked the dead thing, daring it to come back to life so he could kill it again. "Killing it with fire, yessir, fire! fire! fire! wooooot!!" the firebat muttered, his eyes wide with the recent excitement.

"Hey Daemon!" Leo brusquely called to him.

"Yessir-ness from me, sir! Something need cookin'?" Daemon asked, and there was this look in his eyes that seemed to tell that he meant what he just babbled.

"Burninate the Zerg I can understand, but what's with the thatched roof cottages?" Leo asked, puzzled.

"It's a Darkainian nursery rhyme, sir!" Daemon answered, looking at Leo as if the captain had grown an extra arm out of his crotch. "Like the five-year old kids on the farm all know how it goes, sir, want me to sing it to you and the Zergling here can be the burninated!" he said brightly, slightly kicking the charred ex-Zergling.

Leo shook his head.

"Just my fucking luck to be fighting for planet of crazies," he muttered. Even so, he glanced up to the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of what the air support was up to.

The world around Jag Rain turned a bright shade of red, but just as his life stopped flashing in front of his eyes, blue skies re-appeared.

Behind him, bits and pieces of Mutalisk and Overlord started their gravity-fuelled descent to the surface. He had flown his Wraith straight into the viscera, resulting in his plane being coated with blood and bits of flesh when he flew past the spot where previously an Overlord and Mutalisks flew.

He gasped huge lungfuls of air, trying to calm down his furiously beating heart. His gamble worked.

"This is ScatteredRain," he said into the radio, scarcely able to believe what he was saying. "Target neutralized."

The first voice to congratulate him was that of Chris Smith, the Lord Deathscythe, ruler of Darkainia and more importantly, the commander of the Deathscythe Wing. The others soon followed. Asmodeus, Soulfire, Zoro, Ken, all could hardly contain their awe at his reckless gambit.

"Just one problem here," Jag reported, "I'm out of Geminis, requesting permission to return to base.'

"Granted, with pleasure," replied Deathscythe, as he brought his plane level with Jag's, the two Wraiths now at the head of the pack, "The rest of you, wedge formation, and de-cloak. Let's give the cloak generators some time to cool off."

"Roger that, big man," replied Ken. "Rogziel, what's our next available target?" he asked.

Rogziel's pleasant voice came through crisply as usual, as the computer/woman adjutant displayed a tactical map on each man's HUD.

A large, mushroom-shaped Zerg structure was highlighted.

"This structure seems to be a nest for Zerg flyers," Rogziel said. "As previously discussed, taking out this structure could disrupt their flying breeds, giving us air superiority."

Then another area was circled in green. "These are our remaining ground forces," Rogziel reminded the pilots. "Providing air support and cover would help them achieve their objectives faster," Rogziel said.

Deathscythe dawdled for a few moments as his wingmates flew into formation, with the exception of Jag, whose Wraith peeled away from the wing, and headed back to Port Arthur to resupply and re-arm.

"The Overlords seem to be pulling back, and the Mutalisks are escorting them, if the radar's got anything to say about it," Zoro mentioned, his plane the last to get into formation.

"What about Jing and the ground troops?" cautioned Soulfire. "Someone's got to hold their hands," he said.

"Leo's on the job," replied Deathscythe curtly. Nudging his plane forward with a gentle pull on the thruster lever, he pointed his plane towards the great Zerg spire. "But this weird thing, I don't trust. I'm taking it out," he continued.

"Roger that, boss," Ken said, as his plane re-appeared, the cloaking field turned off.

"Got it sir," Asmodeus replied, rather excited at the idea of getting to bomb a ground target for once.

"Zoro, what's the skinny on the bad guys?" Asked Deathscythe, as the Deathscythe Wing approached the spire.

"Looks like some Guardians, plus some smaller things I can't quite identify, probably Mutalisks,but I'm going to have to eyeball them to be sure," he replied.

"Perfect. Killing Guardians keeps the ground pounders happy," Ken muttered. The Zerg spire came closer in their viewscreens. Like a mushroom, it had a large, bulbous head that was supported by a thick trunk that came up from the Zerg creep at ground level.

"Guardians confirmed," Zoro said, looking at his instrument panel.

"Screw that, I can eyeball them from here," Asmodeus said, "Geminis armed. Say the word, boss."

"Fire a salvo, then full thrust towards that structure! Take it out with the lasers!" Ordered Deathscythe, as the large, floating crablike Zerg Guardians came into range.

"Guardians confirmed," Zoro said, looking at his instrument panel.

"Screw that, I can eyeball them from here," Asmodeus said, "Geminis armed. Say the word, boss."

"Fire a salvo, then full thrust towards that structure! Take it out with the lasers!" Ordered Deathscythe, as the large, floating crablike Zerg Guardians came into range.

Eleven Wraiths loosed their missiles at the Guardians that floated around the great Spire. Most hit their targets, and as the unfortunate Guardians exploded in a bloody mist of blood and viscera, the survivors slowly, painstakingly tried to scatter, floating off in different directions in the hope that the human planes wouldn't get them all.

"Hah! You're not going anywhere!" shouted Deathscythe, his plane firing twelve Gemini missiles at the fleeing Guardians. A cruel smile played on his lips when the missiles connected.

"Get ready to strafe that thing with the lasers," reminded Asmodeus. "We can go Guardian hunting at our pleasure."

"Got that," replied Ken Sohryu, eagerly switching the main weapon systems from missile to burst laser. "Ground target coming up in fifteen seconds," he said.

"Confirmed," said Zoro.

"Rogziel, point out where it's gonna hurt," said Deathscythe, smiling in satisfaction when the targeting systems for all eleven Wraiths locked on what Rogziel thinks would be a weak spot.

"We're trusting your girl on this one, Ken," said Asmodeus.

"Target in range on seven.." said Zoro.

"Six"

Soulfire's finger gently rested on the laser cannon's trigger, cold sweat pouring down his brow, over his eyes.

"Five"

Deathscythe unconsciously bit his lower lip, hate raging in his eyes. The Zerg will pay for desecrating his world. He will kill them all, one target at a time.

"Four"

Both Ken and Tom, or better known as Asmodeus, kept their planes level on the outer edges of the Wraith formation, nervously looking out for any unpleasant surprises.

"Three…"

"Fuck that, open fire!" Shouted Deathscythe, no longer willing to wait. His finger choked the trigger button, and his Wraith began spitting out laser bursts.

The other members followed suit, showering the Zerg spire with murderous intent. Where their lasers hit, the structure seemingly melted away, leaving holes that bled a steaming liquid, presumably the ichor-like substance that passed for Zerg blood.

In a few seconds, the eleven planes of the Deathscythe Wing had made their strafing run, and the target, although bleeding and damaged, still stood, emitting steam or smoke where the planes had hit.

"Come round for another pass," Deathscythe commanded.

"Six o'clock low! Something's coming at us!" shouted Ken, rising panic in his voice.

"What?" Zoro shouted, looking over his shoulder. The blood drained from his face at the sight of four batlike Zerg flyers on his tail. The creatures were the smallest flying Zerg he had ever seen, no larger than the Gemini missiles that his Wraith carried.

"Peel off. Zoro, try to shake them!" Deathscythe commanded. "Cloak!" he shouted as his plane started to shimmer and fade in the air.

Zoro desperately banked hard left, trying to shake off the pursuing Scourges from his tail. In his desperation, there was no time in his mind to press the button that activated his plane's cloaking field, only the harsh pressure of a three-G manoeuvre.

His eyeballs felt like they would pop out of his skull, the sensation was like being crushed, and yet he pushed hard on the joystick, trying to get the creatures off his tail.

His plane started to shudder and shake under the pressure, and Zoro had no choice but to put his plane out of its steep turn. Exhaling deeply, he gasped in relief, turning to check whether he had managed to shake off the creatures.

He hadn't.

"No." Zoro desperately fumbled on his plane's instrument panels, trying to activate the cloaking device.

Unfortunately for him the Zerg were faster, three of them ramming his plane from behind in a suicidal charge. As they collided, they exploded, destroying a wing and both engines with one final death-shriek. Zoro had no time to even register fear before secondary explosions reached the fuel tanks, causing the remnants of his plane to turn into a flaming ball in mid-air. There wasn't even much debris to hit the ground.

"Ben!" Deathscythe shouted out in shock.

The final Scourge circled the spot where Zoro met his fiery end, a mocking victory dance.

"All pilots, this is Deathscythe," he said, calmly, suppressing the best he can the blind rage he felt at the death of a loyal wingman and friend. He needed cold, cruel focus to do what must be done.

"Chris, don't do this," Ken said softly over the radio.

If Deathscythe heard, he ignored those words.

"Your orders are to resume the air support function as we originally planned." Deathscythe said, as he turned his plane back towards the Zerg spire.

"I will complete taking out this particular target," Deathscythe said with grim finality.

Asmodeus was the first one to muster the courage to say anything. "Sir, I don't think.."

"Don't think, soldier. DO!" replied Deathscythe.

"Leave him be, Tom," Ken said. "This is Ken Sohryu, taking over. Good luck, big guy," he said, as he nudged his plane away, towards the men on the ground.

"Wish we didn't need Marines escorting us," Jing muttered glumly in his Siege Tank, "Or at least they could move faster. This is boring," he said, complaining about the need to keep alongside the marines.

"Boring is good!" replied Ryan Slicer, Jing's tank gunner. "Give me boring over having Zergling claw at the hatches again any day of the week, sir."

"Bah." Was all Jing managed to reply, before Leo's voice came through on the communications again.

"Look alive, people, we're going to get within Siege range of the central hive. They're going to throw the kitchen sink in our direction so keep your eyes peeled, and for god's sakes keep an eye on the ground for anything funny."

"Can I siege now?" Jing whined, obviously bored again. The adrenaline in his veins demanded action and demanded action now.

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" replied Kirby over the radio, picking up on the joke.

"Captain Leo sir, I need to take a wee-wee break," Jing responded, causing the other tank crews to laugh.

Syndikos motioned to Leo in the general direction of the hive. A flurry of activity was taking place there, with hydralisks and zergling popping out seemingly from nowhere, and making their way to the Darkanians.

"Here we go again sir," Syndikos said.

"Roger that. Attention, all Siege Tanks! Siege up and open fire at those guys coming at us!" Leo ordered.

"Ah, I feel alive again," Kirby replied, stopping his tank to start the transformation into Siege Mode.

They were soon joined by the planes of the Deathscythe Wing, as a mass of Zergling and Hydralisks began one final charge at the humans.

"That's odd," Syndikos muttered silently to himself. "I thought we had twelve Wraiths."

Deathscythe shouted out another curse as the Zerg Scourge deftly avoided yet another Gemini missile. The thing was barely the size of his Wraith's wing, but it had speed and maneouverabilty that he had never seen before, and it became increasingly difficult to keep his distance from the creature. It wanted to be face-to-face with him, it desperately wanted to take him along in death.

"I'm taking you down whatever it takes," he said, thinking of nothing but revenge for Zoro.

"Siege up!" Leo commanded. "Marines, lock and load, and don't spare the ammo!"

"Get ready for a strafing run!" Ken commanded as the Wraiths lowered their altitudes, approaching the melee. "Try to get as many as you can with the lasers!"

"Roger," said Soulfire, already racing ahead, his finger on the cloak button.

The mass of slavering, snarling Zerg ground units, the last defenders of the hive complex, kept on coming, ready to die to for the Swarm.

"They're in range, Miss Crimson,want me to kill them now ma'am or are we going to wait for Kirby again?!" said Chare, her fingers already exerting pressure on the trigger.

A dull boom from Kirby's tank answered the question, and Sergeant Chare wasted no time replying with a blast of her own.

Five Arclite cannons fired into the mass of Zerg, vaporizing many, but it wasn't enough to stop the Zerg charge.

The tank gunners frantically waited while the automatic loading systems fitted another round in the breech, a few experienced ones like Ryan Slicer have already made the adjustments for the next shot.

Syndikos felt something whizz by his ear. There was no need to check what it was, he'd been spit at enough times by Hydralisks to know what it was. "Shit, they're in rifle range already?" he asked.

"You know what that means, men!" Leo shouted. "It's killing time! All Marines charge!"

A wild roar erupted from the Marines, which was soon punctuated with deafening roars from the Siege Tanks. Then the mass of Zergling and Hydralisks replied with their own, equally bloodcurling hisses and roars as they practically threw themselves on the line of Marines.

Still screaming madly, Syndikos emptied his Gauss Rifle into a Hydralisk, snarling in satisfaction as it fell, exhaling its last. But some of his comrades weren't so lucky, and for some it was too late. Hiraishin was isolated from his comrades and was immediately set upon by six snarling Zergling. The firebats rushed to his side, but gave up all hope when they saw that he had stopped firing - he no longer had an arm to hold a rifle with. He didn't even scream as the Zergling ripped him to pieces.

Captain Leo himself had large holes in his battle armor, but he left in front of him piles of dead Zerg. He didn't fire at Zerg with the usual wild abandon the other men had - he tried his damned best to keep an eye on the marines, trying to keep them in formation so they couldn't be swarmed. It was always a futile task, he knew this very well, but the thought fled his mind as he whirled around to blast a Zergling that was coming up on Grimmy from behind. He barely had time to flash a reassuring thumbs-up at the marine, before scrambling to help a Firebat that was being chased by a hydralisk.

The Siege Tank crews were nothing but pleased at the overall situation. "He's keeping them busy.. Excellent" said Jing. "Keep pounding on their central hive complex! Ignore the other structures!"

The other tanks replied with Arclite blasts, the shells flying over the heads of the marines and Zerg battling it out not two hundred meters away from them, to land with devastating effect on the central hive, which was now bleeding everywhere, that caused the Zerg to attack that much more ferociously.

Leo was beginning to worry that the Marines couldn't keep the Zerg from breaking through the line. The Marines were fighting desperately, but the Zerg seemed to know instinctively where to apply the pressure, sometimes piling on six or seven Zergling on one Marine, and ignoring the covering fire from his comrades.

Waiting for the cavalry sucked.

Cursing, Lord Deathscythe pulled up sharply, avoiding the charging Scourge. They have been dancing this same deadly dance for only a few minutes, but now Deathscythe began to feel fear gnawing at his mind. Every attack run, every missile, had been easily dodged by this creature. Its speed and agility was beyond anything Deathscythe had ever seen. Woe betide the Deathscythe Wing if there were any more of them.

Screaming in fury, Ken Sohryu led the other Wraiths in an steep dive, their laser cannons strafing the ground, frying Zergling and Hydralisks alike, as the Siege Tanks pounded the Zerg hatchery, Ken pulled up the nosecone of his Wraith, and boosted the thrusters, climbing into the sky.

"We're going to win this, I can't believe it!" Jing muttered to himself as Ryan fired off another Arclite shell at the hatchery. Leo's Marines were now pushing forward, mowing down any Zerg that got in range. A few lucky Hydralisks managed to spit off several shots at Jing's tank, but the damage caused was so inconsequential that the SCVs waiting behind the tanks didn't bother trying to fix it.

"Kicking ass and taking names names names raspberry flavoured napalm burnination whoooooo!!!!!" screamed the demented firebat known as Daemon, as he put the flame to a wounded Zergling, it was obvious that the dying creature's death-shriek made him happy.

"Back off, sucker!" Syndikos yelled as he fired off a short burst at a Hydralisk that was getting too close to the Captain. The remaining Zerg defenders were a pathetic lot, as they were pounded by Arclites, strafed by Wraith laser cannons, and pulverised with good old-fashioned Marine lead.

Yet they fought on, and they were quick to swarm any Marine that got careless.

"Come around for another pass," Ken ordered the other pilots. "Let's keep mister Kozlov happy."

The five Siege Tanks fired another blast of Arclite shells, slamming into the dying Hatchery before exploding, sending bits of shell, blood and steam flying into the air, as the Zerg structure started to collapse in on itself, the complex biological structure was destroyed in less than three minutes in a spectacular implosion.

At the same time, the Wraiths came around for another strafing run, their laser cannons making short work of the remaining Zerg, as the men cheered.

"Oh my God!" shrieked Chare, as she saw the effect of her tank's bombardment on the Zerg structure. "I can't believe we killed it, Miss Crimson! I thought these things would never die, but here we just did it ma'am and I think we've just won, I can't believe it!"

The young woman paused for breath, then, sensing something wrong, turned around to take a look at her tank commander, Miss Crimson. Being the only all-female tank crew on Darkainia, the two young women had a special bond that seemingly went above and beyond comradeship, and Jing had often joked they were telepathic.

Lt. Crimson just sat there, the radio headset in her right hand, her mouth was open wide, and her eyes just stared blankly in the direction of the tank's radar.

A single tear fell, and it ran down from Crimson's soulful brown eyes, down her bronze-honeyed cheeks, to be wiped carelessly on the sleeve of her uniform.

"Miss Crimson, I don't understand.. why?" Chare asked, confused, and worried that she was confused. Her mind ran several disaster scenarios that could have got such a reaction from her tank commander.

What she got was the one she didn't expect.

"They got Deathscythe… They shot him down." Crimson replied.


	8. AD Liberation ch 8

In the cold void of space, inhuman eyes watched the Terran and Zerg destroy each other. Executor Avalon of the Protoss Carrier Galdrados stood still on the bridge of his ship, watching as holographic representations of Terrans fought and slew holographic swarms of Zerg on the simulated tableau of his main tactical screen. 

STARCRAFT

Liberation

Part 3 : Intervention

Tassadar himself had named Avalon Executor of the Protoss Fleets, a grand honor for any Khala warrior, and a heavy burden entrusted only to the mightiest.

Therefore, Executor Avalon reasoned to himself, it is only natural that he would feel restless, reduced as he was to observing the Terrans and Zerg annihilate each other on this isolated Terran world. The Conclave on Aiur had ordered the cleansing of any planet that bore the taint of Zerg, sending Tassadar as Executor of a mighty fleet that would burn and purge the universe of the swarming creatures.

And Tassadar did his duty with methodical precision, raining plasma warheads on the infested Terran worlds without mercy, Avalon always alongside in the mighty Protoss carrier, Galdrados. The cleansing of the world the Terrans called Chau Sara and Mar Sara, for example were conducted with the utmost efficiency. The planets were rendered barren and incapable of supporting life in less than one planetary rotation.

Despite this, Tassadar had confessed to him that he was obeying orders without believing in the appropriateness of his mission. Or perhaps he was mindful of the stain on his personal honor, indiscriminately killing entire planets, not caring whether innocent Terrans burned side by side with the abominable Zerg.

Tassadar's search for another way led Avalon here, to this backwater planet in the initial stages of a Zerg infestation, to observe the resistance of the resident alien species against the onrushing Zerg.

Avalon stared intently at the images, broadcast to his Carrier by a network of cloaked Protoss Observers orbiting the planet, orbiting unnoticed, side by side with the Terran's own communications satellites.

Besides him stood his trusted friend and comrade, Glensather, who led a squadron of scout planes, formidable medium-range attack craft, armed with smaller versions of the plasma warheads that Avalon's ship carried, as well as mounted photon burst cannons, the Scouts were formidable opponents.

Formidable, yet unused.

Thus, Avalon reasoned, that Glensather would be even more bored than he was.

"See, my Executor, see how they strike down the Zerg!" Glensather said through mind-speak, his large eyes glowing gold briefly with excitement. A long, four-fingered hand swept in front of Avalon's view, indicating the destruction of the Zerg's hatchery and hive cluster.

"My eyes, old as they are, my friend, still work," Avalon replied.

"Well enough, I hope, to see the wisdom of Tassadar's true intent!" Glensather exclaimed, his glowing eyes briefly reflecting Avalon's own face in them.

Avalon bowed slightly, spreading both his hands outwards, the polite, proper gesture of expressing disagreement.

"You presume to know Tassadar's will? You misjudge the situation, Glensather," Avalon said, drawing his fellow warrior's attention to another display panel. "Behold, the Zerg already breed reinforcements, what the Terrans clear today, they will rebuild tomorrow." Avalon said.

A low, dissatisfied growl emanated from Glensather's mouth.

"It is the lack of conviction on the part of the Conclave that wastes our time, and draws our fleets away from the defense of Aiur," said Glensather, forcefully stabbing a finger at the image of the planet. "The Terrans can match the Zerg in courage, if not weaponry. If we were to push them in the right direction, we can let them deal with the infestation. We can then end this errand and focus on what's important, like the defense of Aiur!"

"Glensather my friend, it is never that easy." Avalon said tiredly. He glanced away from the displays, surveying the vast emptiness of space that surrounded Darkainia. It was easy enough for any Protoss present to know that he was looking in the direction of Aiur, ancient homeworld of the Protoss.

"Our personal feelings aside, Glensather, the Conclave's orders stand. As does Tassadar's orders to me. We observe the Terrans' ability to fight off the Zerg, under pain of death before detection," Avalon said, his own eyes reddening now.

Glensather was seething with fury. There, down on the planet, was a weak, primitive species, and while they were standing in honor in the face of the Zerg, the mighty Protoss warriors, the wise templars, the Khala warriors and the machinery of the Empire, were reduced to sitting on a carrier and watching.

"I do not have to like this, Avalon," Glensather muttered darkly, almost moving his mouth.

"You can only understand the ways of an Executor when you become one," Avalon replied. He was going to start a lecture on the importance of obedience to the dictates of the Protoss Conclave, but he never got the chance.

Several kilometers away from the carrier's position, space itself seemed to shimmer and distort, several bulky grey shapes solidifying in empty space in front of the Protoss Carrier.

The sensor alerts sounded, while Avalon's mouth actually opened in surprise, revealing rows of small, sharp teeth.

"Terran ships!" exclaimed a protoss warrior somewhere. While Avalon himself had never seen battle with the Terrans, it was obvious that the clumsy-looking, bulky mechanical contraptions were hardly Protoss.

"They will obviously see us as soon as they finish warping in," Glensather commented, as he turned and started running towards the ship launch bays. "It seems that the situation warrants a change of orders." Glensather said, in a parting shot at his Executor.

"Under pain of death we must avoid detection." Avalon said grimly.

"God, I hate warping," said Episode, rubbing his sore temples, while his vision started returning to normal. Lord Deathscythe's special envoy to the Confederation was tasked with obtaining supplies, equipment and other necessities for the war, and he was running late.

He glanced over to his Executive Officer, a pretty young Darkainian, with cool brown eyes and long blonde hair tied into a bun. Her name was Kate. Just Kate. She stubbornly refused to adopt a proper Darkainian pen-name like the others, rolling her eyes at the planet's cultural obsession with writing for fame and pleasure, preferring other pursuits.

She was the daughter of one of Darkainia's richest landowners, but instead of the idle life of poetry readings and society life with the rich and famous, she joined the nascent Darkainian millitary. Her horrified father pulled strings and put her in piloting, instead of the medical corps where women usually served, a cause of much friction between father and daughter.

"We are now exiting warp and entering normal space." Reported the cool voice of Kate. "Sensors and visuals should return in about one minute."

"Finally…" muttered Episode as he clutched his sore forehead. "…didn't think I could stand another moment of it."

Episode was the special envoy to the Confederation commissioned by Lord Deathscythe himself, tasked with the unexciting yet crucial duty of appropriating supplies, equipment, manpower and other necessities of waging a bloody war for survival with the innumerable Zerg broods.

Recently, with the sudden and unexpected emergence of Zerg threats on Confederate worlds, demand for the necessities of war have surged exponentially, making the purchasing of supplies and manpower more difficult and costly. Speculators are even warning of a collapse of the Confederate war machine in the near future should they be unable to secure additional deposits of minerals and Vespene gas.

Nonetheless, Episode was feeling proud of himself. Despite the limitations of the Darkainian economy, with a few deft tugs on the right strings and a fair amount of cunning, he was able to obtain an entire battalion of trained soldiers and veritable arsenal of advanced weaponry, including a Yamato equipped, Behemoth-class Battle Cruiser called Ilona.

Sure, even though the Confederates only sold it to Darkainia since its systems were almost obsolete. Not to mention the ship itself had been attacked and infested by Zerg several weeks ago, needed a good spring-clearing of foul-smelling Zerg corpses in the hangars and hallways, and had a bridge that reeked heavily of beer, Episode figured that Lord Deathscythe wouldn't care, it's a Battle Cruiser after all.

"I'm gonna get myself a beer." Episode announced, getting up tiredly off his seat. "Kate's in charge for now."

"Why don't you just lick the floor, it seems encrusted with beer anyways." came Kate's reply.

"Naah that brand is cheap and only for pussies." said Episode, turning to leave, not noticing his subordinate's insolence.

"How do you know what brand it is!" asked Kate incredulously, surprised not only by the response, but the sheer naturalness of it.

"From its smell! It's smell!" said Episode a little too defensively.

"Heh you expect me to- what the hell…" said Kate, witnessing something strange on her terminal monitor.

"What is it? Put it on display." said Episode, noticing her sudden change in mood.

With a swift flex of her hands, Kate punched in the command on her console and the image of her astonishment flashed over the bridges display.

If there were a mysterious race of highly evolved beings with technology that far surpassed that of the Terrans, this would be their fleet.

Episode couldn't take his eyes off the image of the imposing golden spaceship that was flanked by a group of smaller fighters.

"It's... beautiful," he said, his eyes going over every curve of the Protoss Carrier. Grabbing hold of his wits, Episode gave an order.

"Hail them! Let them know we are just passing by and are not intent on war with anyone but the Zerg."

"Executor. Ships of unknown origin have just exited hyperspace on our starboard flank. Ninety percent fit with profile of Terran design." Notified the robotic voice of the Carriers super computer in sound. "The ships seems to be in transit and their weapon systems are powered down."

Avalons and Glensather's eyes narrowed, as their minds hurriedly pondered the possibilities of action even as the metallic hammerhead helm of the Battle Cruiser Ilona flashed before them.

"Their existence compromises our mission." said Avalon coldly in open thought speech, the next few words quoted verbatim from the mind of Executor Tassadar himself.

"Under pain of death we must avoid detection," Avalon mentally said.

"You're not thinking of…" said Glensather in disbelief before he was cut off.

"Executor. We are being hailed." said the computer.

Episode's face flashed across the window previously displaying the vastness of space. If he was nervous he was hiding it exceptionally well.

"Greetings. I shall be concise." said Episode in his best business-like tone. "We are a military convoy headed for Darkainia to purge the Zerg. We have no objectives concerning you or your race, and intend to pass peacefully. That is all." The transmission was cut.

"What is that Terran blabbering about?" Glensather asked, turning his head to look at Avalon. "The creature does not seem to project any sentient thought whatsoever!"

Avalon kept his head down, deep in thought. "I presume the creature expects us to understand Terran mouth-speak, not that it matters. Tassadar has given his orders and these Terran ships risk our mission." Avalon looked up as he prepared to telepathically broadcast a command to the entire ship.

"Warriors! The time for training has passed; your time to prove yourselves has come! Prepare for ship to ship battle!"

"These Terrans have merely come to destroy the Zerg!" protested Glensather. "Our goals are the same! Why must we make war on them!"

"Launch the interceptors! They shall comprise the vanguard! Glensather! You and your Scouts shall rain destruction from afar!" Continued Avalon, ignoring Glensather's protests.

"A proud warrior of the Khala doesn't hide behind mechanical puppets!" yelled Glensather indignantly, almost opening his mouth. The very idea, using the robotic Interceptors to engage the Terrans, while the Protoss Scouts sat back and picked off enemies from the back, was a grave insult, and Glensather was not going to let it be so, not without protest.

"The Scouts must be at the forefront!" Glensather protested. "The Khala are always the vanguard of Protoss honour!"

"You agree to the battle then?" replied Avalon coolly. "Then Sally forth! Don't return without glory!"

Glensather realized that Avalon had managed to use the Khala's valor-hungry ways against him, manipulating Glensather's warrior rage to make him charge head first into a battle he did not even agree with in the first place! Truly, the Templar were masters of manipulation, he thought to himself.

Swallowing his anger, Glensather saluted, striking his fist firmly against his chest.

"En Taro Adun, brave Avalon," Glensather said. With his mouth.

When Glensather had left, Avalon looked back toward the Terran convoy.

"Don't blame us Terrans… blame whatever primitive god you have."

Back on the Ilona…

"I hope that does it." said Episode, sitting back down on his seat. "Tell the dropships to step on the gas, these guys make me uncomfortable for some reason."

"Roger that." replied a crewmember.

"Episode!" yelled Kate urgently. "Our unknown friends have deployed a large number of their fleet in our direction."

"Any word from them yet?" asked Episode.

"None at all."

Episode bowed his head, closing his eyes in silent contemplation. Are they launching an attack? Or are they sending help? Damn silent types. Whatever. If they're launching an attack we can't allow them to catch us off guard, he thought.

Episode opened his eyes and immediately barked out his commands.

"Scramble the Wraiths! Have them set up a defensive perimeter and cover the Dropships. Tell them not to fire until I give the command."

"I gotcha." replied Kate. "This is the bridge of the Ilona! All Wraith pilots are to battle stations, repeat battle stations, this is not a drill!"

"Ready all burst-laser batteries! The Dropships are to waste no time getting to Darkainia!" Episode ordered. There was no sense having the vulnerable, defenseless Dropships hanging around if things were going to get hostile.

"Kate. Hail them again." Episode commanded, nervously gripping the fake leather of his seat.

"No response, Episode," Kate shook her head, her large brown eyes starting to display worry. "The Dropships are moving planetside. I hope the Marines are still holding the Spaceport" Kate added.

"Bridge command, this is Captain Oblivious of the Divine Wind Squadron, we have assumed the designated formation and are awaiting further orders." said Oblivious into his mouthpiece, sitting snug in the cockpit of his Wraith Fighter.

Hired by Episode as an escort and eventually a bolster to the Deathscythe Wing, the Divine Wind squadron was mostly made up of mercenaries and out of work confederate pilots. The twelve Wraiths they piloted had decent chassis, but were made up of parts scavenged and from the numerous scrap yards all across Tarsonis. They didn't even have working cloaking units. At least they were a decent rice bowl.

Oblivious looked lazily at the swarm of approaching Protoss interceptors that appeared as specks in the distance. He had just finished toggling the fire control system to the weird configuration these ships had.

"Who the hell are these guys?" He wondered out loud as the crosshairs of the fire control system registered a lock. "Ahh who gives a shit…"

"Hey monkeys! Got a lock yet?" He broadcasted to his team.

"Yea, piece of junk still works."

"Right whatever." Were among the generally lethargic replies.

"Captain, you have permission to engage, fire at will" said the fuzzy sounding voice of Episode right into Oblivious' flight helmet.

"You heard the boss. Smoke 'em boys!" radioed Oblivious, hitting the thrusters, his eleven wingmates following him into battle. Mere seconds passed before the tell tale beep of missile lock sounded in his cockpit.

"Let loose!" Oblivious commanded.

At these words, a volley of twenty-four Gemini missiles accompanied by a multiple bursts of high-density plasma from the Ilona flew with deadly velocity toward the interceptor line. The plasma lasers reached first, piercing the shields of three interceptors, which pulsed with blue shockwaves, and skewering the vulnerable interceptor plating beneath it. As the crippled interceptors burst into blue flame, the barrage of Gemini missiles closed the distance.

Oblivious blinked. While some interceptor shields buckled as they took the full force of the Gemini missiles, several interceptors nimbly dodged the Gemini missiles amidst the explosions.

"Keep firing boys! Don't be afraid to use the lasers!" commanded Oblivious frantically. Never in all his years of experience has anyone dodged a goddamn Gemini missile lock. These guys were interesting… it would be a pleasure slaughtering them.

"We'd be disadvantaged in a regular dogfight… these guys are too fast, too nimble," thought Oblivious. "Let's see how this'll do then…" he muttered.

"On my command!" Shouted Oblivious. "We will commence operation Neopo! Team Alpha will then return and cover the dropships! Teams Beta and Charlie will continue as planned!"

"Come on guys! It's party time!" yelled Oblivious with fervour as he set the afterburners to full blast.

Another volley of Geminis blasted off as the Divine Wind charged with seemingly suicidal abandon toward the interceptor line.

The Gemini missiles were much easier to avoid this time as they were all focused at the general centre of the interceptor team, those few interceptors that were caught in it were obliterated in a storm of fire. The bulk of the interceptors had easily avoided the second barrage however, they were at a disadvantage, their formation was in shambles and they were divided.

"Heh… its working!" thought Oblivious as his confidence soared.

"Beta! Charlie! Follow me!" Shouted Oblivious, careening toward the smaller group of interceptors, which a focused strike could easily destroy. "Use the lasers to eat their shields! Finish them with the Geminis!"

In unison, eight lasers fired off at the interceptors, which were just pulling out of their dodge. As fast as they were, they couldn't avoid plasma energy moving at light speed. In moments, the interceptors' measly shields faded away, just before they were annihilated by another wave of missiles fired at close range.

"Woooooo!" whooped Oblivious to the cheers of the rest of his team. "Mop up the rest and call it a day!"

Setting eyes on the several remaining interceptors, he smirked as they split up and flew in separate directions, approaching the team from all sides.

"Quick… but not quick enou- HOLY!" he exclaimed as two of his team were destroyed in a burst of flame as they were caught in a torrent of charged light particles that streaked past his Wraith, grazing his wing but not destroying it.

"Shit! Change of plans! Raid the newcomers one by one! Ignore the small fry!" Oblivious commanded hastily as he broke into a new round of cold sweat.

xxx

Co-author credits go to "Oblivious"


	9. AD Liberation ch 9

In the clear blue skies of Darkainia, a single Wraith blazed trails of hot smoke behind it as it criss-crossed the sky, flying over a range of blue mountains over and over again. Ken Sohryu, pilot of the Deathscythe Wing, had ordered the rest of the Deathscythe Wing back to Port Arthur for refueling and rearming, while he circled the Blue Taboo Mountains, the place where Deathscythe's plane fell from the sky, shot down by Zerg fliers.

His search was interrupted by the sound of a disembodied mechanical voice, unmistakably female.

"Ken Sohryu, this is the Adjutant," said the voice.

"I'm listening, Rogziel," Ken replied, not really paying attention.

"Ken," Rogziel said. "Ken, there's something important I need to tell you," the half-woman half-machine's voice said, not once losing the pleasant machine-modulated lilt, despite the urgent tone.

"What is it?" Ken Sohryu replied, as he banked his plane left for another circling pass of the Blue Taboo Mountains. He strained to look at the ground below, trying to spot anything that resembled the wreckage of Lord Deathscythe's plane.

"First of all, if you don't turn back to Port Arthur now you'll run out of fuel." Rogziel said.

"All right, all right, just let me make one more pass, his plane's got to be around here somewhere," Ken replied absently, looking out the cockpit to the craggy, inhospitable mountains again, trying to find wreckage, smoke, anything that marked the location of the planet's leader.

"Ken, don't make me take over your plane," Rogziel replied, still in a pleasant tone of voice.

"All right, all right, I'm heading back now," Ken replied, exasperated.

"Thank you, Ken. On another matter, I have detected several Darkainian IFF signals in high orbit," Rogziel said.

"Episode's back. About fucking time too," Ken said, interrupting the Adjutant.

"Please let me finish, Ken," Rogziel continued. "I cannot confirm if the signals are from Episode's ships, as they were suddenly cut off by jamming of unknown source."

"What!?"

"I'm trying to re-establish contact, but 78 likelihood is that the ships are being attacked by some unknown enemy."

"Who?!"

"Unknown," Rogziel replied, still in the pleasant artificial voice.

"Can we make a space shot?" Ken asked, a futile question, he knew, but it was just human nature, he supposed.

"I'm sorry, Ken, not possible."

"God damn it, like I don't have enough problems already," he muttered, as his navigation systems charted the straightest possible path to the Starport. "Rogziel, put my plane on autopilot. I need to think. And for god sakes keep trying to contact Episode!"

"Done, Ken. ETA 20 minutes at current speed."

Ken closed his eyes and tried really hard to sleep, cause when you're asleep your problems just don't seem so bad.

Back on the Ilona, problems just piled on one after the other.

"Is the fire control system malfunctioning??" Episode asked urgently. "I want the ATA lasers to hit something before I have grandkids, dammit!!"

"They're too fast! We can't target them!" replied a crewmember.

"Fine! Then ignore them and focus on the bigger ones!"

"We could hit the Wraiths by accident, sir. Oblivious probably won't like that." Answered the crewman.

Episode cursed. Between those smaller, annoying little planes and the normal-sized ones, lasers and the occasional missile were hitting the Ilona repeatedly. The bulkheads were sturdy, reinforced titanium alloy from the forges of Tarsonis, but something had to give eventually.

In this particular instance, it was a stray missile shot from a Scout, intended for Oblivious. The commander of the Divine Wind cursed, pushing his Wraith into a dive, the deadly protoss missiles skimming past his tail fin by several flimsy feet, racing past him, and immediately locking on to the next available target, something much easier to hit, the Ilona.

Oblivious banked right carefully, slow enough to get a Protoss Scout in his missile lock, before releasing a single Gemini in its general direction. No sooner than he pressed the trigger he jiggled the joystick, his plane weaving to avoid the enemy's own missile lock, the last missile that went by him already forgotten.

Closer and closer it flew towards the Ilona, unhindered by the energy barriers the Protoss used to protect their own ships, till it hit an old, damaged ATS laser turret, the deadly charged photon warhead impacting against steel with a mighty explosion, penetrating the bulkhead, exposing empty corridors inside as shrapnel and assorted detritus were quickly expelled out of the hole through explosive decompression.

"I'm a get you good, motherfucker!!" Oblivious yelled, unleashing a burst of laser fire at the tail of a Scout he had been tailing for the past thirty seconds. Expectation turned to dismay and then frustration, as he saw his laser bursts hit a force-field, dissipating harmlessly against a blue glow that surrounded the plane.

The pilot of the Protoss scout, a young warrior by the name of K'neshiro, shrugged off the Terran's attack, his attention drawn to something more important. As he ignored another burst of laser fire, he telepathically alerted the Galdrados to something that could turn the tide of battle - a breach in the enemy's hull. Within seconds, a telepathic reply filled his mind, and he felt great satisfaction. He shook his plane left and right, now worried about his shields, which were already weakening under Oblivious's attacks.

K'neshiro almost felt pity for the enemy flier, but said and thought nothing as he put on a burst of speed, outrunning Oblivious, who could only shake his fist in impotent fury.

Before replacement bulkheads could be lowered into the breach, a pale blue light filled the corridor where the Ilona's outer armor was breached. The light grew dim, and in its place, stood several proud Protoss Zealots in full environmental battle armor, accompanied by the requisite Protoss machines of war, the large, crablike Dragoons, and the slow but deadly caterpillar-like Reaver.

The lead Protoss Zealot looked around him. The aliens were obviously smaller than the Protoss were, as evidenced by the tight fit of the corridors. Not that it mattered, of course. A Khala warrior fights anywhere, anytime, for the greater good of the Protoss. He raised his forearms and concentrated, powering his psi-blades, which immediately ignited in a flash of blue energy. Behind him, his comrades followed suit, ignoring the howling winds of the air being sucked outside into space. Blue light cast dancing shadows on the walls as the Protoss Zealots armed their weapons, looking expectantly at their leader for their instructions.

"I am Ryoma of the Shelak Tribe!" the lead warrior broadcast telepathically. "Leave none of our enemies alive!"

On the bridge of the Ilona, their arrival was noted with great alarm.

"Episode!" shouted Kate urgently. "Breach on sector seven!! We've been boarded!!"

"What the.. how ... Damn... activate the auto defense systems!! Scramble the marines!!" Episode replied, panic barely being suppressed in his tone of voice. Kate wasted no time carrying out his orders.

"All personnel, we are entering level one combat alert, all combatants are to prepare for combat and report to their respective C.Os. All class-D personnel are to evacuate immediately. I repeat..." announced a smooth voice over the intercom as torrents of red blood and anguished screams of death began echoing the corridors.

Ryoma's group had found a cargo bay, and the Zealots had leapt forward with animal fury, their psi-blades cutting down orange-suited technicians and hapless SCVs. The dragoons marched steadily behind the Zealots, randomly shooting at anything that dared to move with deadly plasma bolts.

Ryoma himself was in lost in the bloodlust of the Protoss, his legs thundering on the cold metal floor as he pursued a wounded technician. He raised his blade ready to strike a killing blow, when he felt a shuddering in the air around him. Snarling, he turned to his left to see who dared attempt to breach his personal force field.

Hastily running into the cargo bay from a narrow corridor was a squad of Marines and Firebats, some with only half their armor, hastily brought into action to try and stop the invading Protoss.

"Fire! Fire! Don't let up for the love of god!" shouted their leader, a marine in dull maroon armor, the name "Stalin" spray-painted on his chest, under which were the numbers "223." Stalin dropped to his knees to steady his position, hastily throwing out a half-used clip out of his Gauss rifle, replacing it with a new one. He was taking no chances with these unknown opponents, and wasn't going to run low on ammo unexpectedly.

Ryoma looked on, surprised, then bemused, as his shields, and the shields of several of his comrades started to flicker and waver under an unrelenting hail of bullets. The Shelak do not laugh in the field of battle, so he suppressed the urge to taunt his enemies, as he pointed in the direction of the marines.

Immediately, a Dragoon, the Protoss' version of a walking tank, a crablike, legged vehicle that walked, or more accurately, scuttled across the battlefield, fired their plasma weapons at the enemy.

Stalin 223 could only open his eyes at the sight of two plasma balls hurtling towards him and his men. "Dear God, this is going to hurt," he muttered, bracing for the inevitable. The plasma connected with the marines, immediately frying to ashes those unfortunate enough not to wear full battle armor, and scattering the hapless marines. Stalin, being at the front, took the full measure of the Dragoon's fire, and was thrown up several feet from the sheer power of the blast, landing painfully in a heap on the floor. It was being fried, electrocuted and kicked in the head all at once, and his world became a blur of screams and red for several precious seconds.

Wasting no time, the Zealots charged, surrounding a handful of hapless marines, shields deflecting rifle bullets fired desperately at them. In a few seconds, the distance is closed and with a flurry of slashes and thrusts, the Zealots Psi blades rip steadily through the Marines combat armor, rending and tearing the vulnerable flesh beneath it. After a few seconds and screams of death, the Marines' mutilated and lifeless bodies drop to the ground only to be stomped over as the Zealots continue their killing spree.

The last thing Stalin 223 saw, was the Ryoma's boot, as the ten-foot tall Protoss warrior brought it down on his head, smashing it into sticky red pulp.

"Onward, Protoss warriors," Ryoma said, surveying the battlefield, satisfied with the destruction he had wrought.


	10. AD Liberation ch 10

Ryoma pressed on, not bothering to finish off the pathetic automated defenses the ship has. Low velocity projectiles were merely an irritation against the psionic shields of the Protoss Zealots, but there was an increasing amount of them, and it was becoming annoying.

The ship was obviously not built for Protoss warriors, and Ryoma's boarding party had no choice but to stick to the larger corridors, while their opponents, puny as they were, hid in the smaller side corridors, where the Zealots could not follow.

Ryoma's psionic shields flickered again, as several bullets hit and deflected, hitting the bulkheads with repeated metallic pings. Looking forward, Ryoma could see terrans in their crude battle armor up ahead, shooting at him like it mattered.

To his irritation, Ryoma indicated with a telepathic signal, which was then followed by a bolt of plasma in the general direction of the Terrans, scattering them like the lower creatures they were. Ryoma tendered a lazy telepathic thanks to the pilot of the Dragoon as he leapt forward, impatient to slaughter his enemies.

"Look at that bastard… walking around as if he owns the place." muttered Sergeant Karl Nemo as he followed the progress of a series of red dots representing the Protoss moving unhindered along a corridor on the Ilona's internal navigational console.

At its this rate the bogeys would reach the partition doors leading to the Ilona's nuclear reactor in ten seconds, the nuclear reactor that he was tasked with guarding. Nemo glanced at the Perdition flamethrowers built into the arms of his Firebat armor, tiny yellow pilot flames were already lit, awaiting the jet of pressurised Vespene gas to shoot out and immolate the enemy.

His weapons offered cold comfort to Nemo. From what the cameras could tell, these aliens laughed bullets off. Ten feet tall, freaky energy blades that sliced open Marine armor like cheap tin cans, and all Nemo had to fend them off with was a couple of Perdition flame throwers.

The men were understandably just as nervous, or more nervous that he was. The door led to the engine rooms, and had to be defended at all costs. The atmosphere was thick with tension mixed with a touch of hopelessness. The aliens shrugged of almost everything the crew thew at them, and the last-ditch defense had the characteristics of a suicide charge.

Karl Nemo looked at the navigation console one last time, and shouted out the orders.

"Battle stations! Incoming bogey!!" he yelled.

The few dozen marines under his command scrambled into the makeshift barricades and readied their gauss rifles with a chorus of satisfying clicks. The other firebats took their positions besides Nemo, ready to charge at the enemy under cover of sustained fire from the Marines.

"On my signal!" Nemo shouted.

There was a deathly silence as the shadow of a four legged something crept over the wall opposite them. Very soon, a golden mechanical leg stuck itself out, soon followed by the shiny body of what looked like a metal spider.

"Fire!!" screamed the Firebat Sergeant as a hatch on top the spider opened to reveal an expanding orb of light.

The dragoon's shields melted like an icicle in hell before the furious onslaught of the hail of rifle bullets, before sparks flew like a light show as its casing was subjected to a merciless pounding, which took little time to dent and warp, before bursting and releasing the blue cryo fluid within.

Nemo knew he really should be surprised the monstrosity went down so easily but he really didn't have the time to think. "More incoming!!" he shouted as more Protoss units appear on screen.

"Our shields are low," complained a Zealot.

"Protoss warriors do not let such trivialities bother them, onwards," Ryoma commanded, ignoring the destruction of the Dragoon. His gaze was set on the hastily constructed barricade, and the prize that lay behind the thick doors the enemy was defending. "If these pathetic creatures stand and fight here, then that must be a critical area," Ryoma said. "Perhaps taking it would grant us victory."

Satisfied with his conclusions, Ryoma ordered the Zealots to group together, just far enough away to be out of range of the Marines, and yet visible to the nervous Terrans. Nemo bit his lip, sensing that the enemy was about to attack, and when they do, it's not going to be pretty.

"Prepare yourselves. Warrirors. We fight for Aiur!" Ryoma shouted, opening his mouth to scream a loud, bloodthirsty roar.

The inhuman sound sent a chill up Nemo's spine, but he knew he had to let the enemy come to him. A dozen Zealots lit their psi blades and charged,r unning at full tilt towards the marines and shouting frenzied war cries. Not bothering to wait for an order from Nemo. The marines reply with the blazing of their rifles and various curses, including groans of pleasure as some injected themselves with stim packs. The Zealots leading the suicidal charge soon found themselves with depleted shields halfway through.

"To the rear, warriors!" Ryoma commanded, literally grabbing the vanguard by the shoulders and pushing them to the back of the Protoss line. Dashing past his comrades, fresh Zealots took their places, forging ahead and taking the brunt of the fire.

"Goddammit," Nemo swore, as he saw, at last, the blue forcefields around the enemy flicker and fade, only for another bunch of aliens to come out from the back, with fresh shields. "Light  
up and charge the motherfuckers on my signal," he said.

The marines desperately fired, and the Zealots charged with equal desperation, managing to close the distance quickly, without many injuries. However, as soon as they get within slashing distance of the bunkers almost all their shields have been depleted.

"Attack!" Ryoma commanded, leaping forward in Nemo's general direction.

"Light 'em up, faggots!" Nemo shouted, as six firebats activated their Predators, jets of flame coming out from each arm, each three feet long, and hot enough to char a Zergling near-instantly.

Nemo charged forward, attacking Ryoma the moment his feet touched the ground. The veteran protoss warrior was caught unawares, there was a look of genuine surprise in his face, for he did not expect this batch to come forward to attack him instead.

"Buuurrrrn!!" Nemo screamed, flames penetrating the forcefield, hitting Ryoma square in the chest, causing the protoss to scream in pain. "**BURN!**" Nemo yelled again, taking a step forward, pressing the advantage, only to let himself get on the receiving end of a psi-blade swining towards his head.

Instinctively, Nemo raised his arm to block the blade, the force of the blow was enough to make him think he broke an arm, the blue psionic blade dug deep into the fireproof ceramic plating.

"Impressive," Ryoma thought, as the fire-wielder parried his blow. Ignoring the pain to his chest, he raised his other arm, this time, he was ready to stab Nemo in the head, and be done with this bothersome insect once and for all.

Then Nemo realized with a tingle of horror, that Ryoma had cut through one of the armored feeder hoses for the Predator in his right arm. Pressurised fluid gushed out of the hose, covering both combatants in sticky liquified vespene gas. Desperately, Nemo tried to extinguish the flamethrower on his other arm, but it was too late.

Ryoma did not know the reason for Nemo's look of terror, and thrust his psi-blade forward, intent on decapitating this bothersome opponent. The blade never connected, for the fine spray of mist caught fire, consuming both Protoss and Terran in a bloody explosive fireball. Death for both was swift and painful.

The battle raged on without pausing, the Zealots desperately trying to cut down the firebats, who laugh cruelly as the charred and burning corpses hit the ground. One after the other the Zealots fell, their shields unable to block the deadly heat of the Perdition flamethrowers, they fell to their knees and died, cooked alive in their battle armor. The stench of burning flesh mixed with spent cordite and blood, as the marines and firebats mercilessly cut down the last few Zealots, until they all followed Ryoma into the lands of the dead.

The marines ceased fire, but little did they know the battle was not truly over. After the Zealots fell, a shiny orb with a glowing streak zigzagged from the distance toward the marine line. Several others swiftly followed this orb.

"What the hell are those things?" Asked a firebat, as he armed his Perdition, ready for anything.

"Will-o-wisps?" someone answered.

The Protoss Scarabs impacted the marine line with deadly effect, detonating silently with a bright flash. After the light faded, there was no trace of humans ever being there, not even their armor survived the detonation of the scarabs. The caterpillarlike Reavers inched forward, already manufacturing new scarabs inside their caterpillar like shells, as they proceeded to their last programmed target.

The last remaing Dragoon armed its photon cannon, ready to help the Reavers blast the door open.

The battle inside the _Ilona_ was not the only area where the humans found themselves pressed by the overwhelming superiority of the Protoss. In space, the Divine Wind had their own problems against the superior Protoss Scouts, and the dogfight became more and more furious with each second. Despite their superior aircraft, the Protoss could not break free from engaging the Wraiths, so instead of attacking the Ilona or the helpless transports, they had to do the aerial dance of death, dodging Geminis and replying with missiles of their own.

Glensather, sighting a Terran wraith flying slowly into his sights, opened fire with his Scouts photon vulcans as he waited for the lock, before the Wraith, almost as if expecting it, spun around wildly out of the line of fire and zoomed straight for Glensather.

"How valiantly these Terrans charge into battle… it's almost as if they care not for their very lives." thought Glensather to himself as the Gemini missiles and burst lasers glanced off the Scout shielding

He brought his plane around, charging at the Wraith at full thrust. At this range and speed, both pilots could not obtain a missile lock, but it didn't prevent them from blazing away at each other with lasers and photon vulcans, both missing the other, as the pilots jiggled and weaved, ironically ending up flying right past each other.

Glensather stifled a cold laugh when he glimpsed the indignant face of Oblivious through his cockpit as Scout and Wraith flew past each other, laser and photon vulcans blazing away.

"Maybe in a thousand years Terran…" he shot to Oblivious telepathically as his Wraith was pounced upon by two interceptors.

"I'll kill you if it takes ten thousand you sonuva bitch!!" shouted Oblivious furiously; clearly oblivious as to how he heard Glensather's words, when his cockpit was again filled with another teammate's scream of death.

"**DAMN IT ALL!!**" Oblivious shouted, banging a fist helplessly against the instrument panel. What would it take to kill these motherfuckers? He wondered.

The Divine Wind was hopelessly out numbered and being slowly picked apart by the combination of swarming interceptors and the powerful Scouts with their anti-matter missiles. The lack of cloaking devices further worsened the problem. It was all Oblivious could do to keep himself alive, and there was nothing in the playbook, nothing he had ever fought against, that could give him any insight, any idea as to how to defeat these enemies.

"Goddammit Episode," Oblivious swore through gritted teeth."I could use some fucking help in here," he swore, glancing back to the_ Ilona_, which was seemingly engaged in firing its ATA lasers at random.

On the bridge of the _Ilona_, Episode gritted his teeth. The battle wasn't going well. The swarms of those fast and maneuverable ships were insistent on staying as thick as ever no matter how many they destroyed. Directly in contrast with the Divine Wind squadron, which had suffered seven losses so far…Worse still, there was no word from Nemo, and he had no idea what happened to the enemy boarding party. He had to act or things were going to the pits.

All of a sudden, the floor and bulkheads started shaking ominously.

"We've lost both our secondary thrusters." reported Kate.

"We can take that." replied Episode. "Anything else?"

"Half the burst laser batteries have been crippled, the hangar has been exposed…"

"Close the partition doors, hurry!"

"Hull damage in sectors twenty two through fifty one has exceeded the Helmer's limit."

"Damn…"

"The barracks and the armory have been destroyed and… the beer hall too."

"JESUS CHRIST THAT DOES IT!!" roared Episode

"Helmsmen! Bring us into range with the enemy mother ship! Kate! We're firing the BIG GUN!"

"You mean the Yamato Gun…" came Kate's tired sounding reply.

"Yes yes whatever."

"Initiating Yamato Gun startup sequence… twenty five seconds to one hundred percent output. Fifty percent… seventy-five… what the, we've lost power!!" Kate shouted in panic.

Episode hastily picked up a phone. "Engine room! What the hell are you guys doing?? Engine room?? Engine room??!" There was nothing but static to answer his frantic questions. Episode wearily put the phone down…

"Convert emergency power to the Yamato Gun! Hurry!" he ordered.

"But what about life support?!" Kate asked. "After this shot we'll be lucky to have enough juice to boil an egg!"

"Don't worry about that! Give the order to evacuate immediately! Order the Wraiths to retreat as well, we're done here. Just as well, I suppose. What about the transports?"

Kate stared at her instruments for a few seconds before replying "about to enter orbit. Still no contact with Rogziel, but they've picked up the starport's landing beacon."

"Excellent. The important thing," Episode said, as he got up, walked over to Kate's post, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "is that the transports are safe. We're not letting Darkainia down:"

The lights dimmed throughout the ship as one system after another shut down, leaving only the artificial gravity and air pressure systems alongside the most rudimentary lighting.

Kate responded with some enthusiasm, "Yamato gun at one hundred percent… arming the Yamato gun."

"Prepare to abandon ship," Episode said, grimly.

"Target in maximum range," the helmsman reported.

"You're going to FEEL this you bastards," Episode muttered.

The actions of the_ Ilona_ did not go unnoticed on board the _Galdrados_. After ordering the interceptors to attack the_ Ilona_, Avalon noted with some consternation that the Battlecruiser continued to close in on the stationary _Galdrados_, ignoring the steady bombardment from the interceptors.

"Glensather," Avalon ordered quietly. "Forget your games, and focus on the largest terran vessel. I do not like its intentions."

"Very well, Executor." Came Glensather's reply. Thinking to himself, "_you get to live, Terran pilot_," he veered away from pursuing Oblivious, ignoring the battle computer's shrill beeping that confirmed he had a missile lock on the Wraith. Pulling away, he steeled himself, trying not to feel any regret.

"I nearly had him…" thought Glensather, fighting back frustration. Bound by his obedience to his executor, he was forced to end his winning duel with Oblivious and focus on attacking the Ilona. .

"Stupid dickhead isn't pursuing… bastard was playing with me…" muttered Oblivious as Glensather's scout made a hundred and eighty degree turn and blasted off in the Ilona's general direction. He thought of pursuit, but Episode's already given his order.

"Any of you monkeys still alive?" he radioed.

"Yea just me… fuck off you alien scum my boss wants to live." came a single reply.

"Shut up Mr. I-have-only-one-engine-left-and-am-flying-like-a-retard before I shove a missile up your ass." replied Oblivious, not mentioning that he had half his wings shot off and had both engines in the red from reckless piloting… it would be a miracle if he could enter orbit and live.

Ignoring the frantic attacks of the Protoss Scouts, the Ilona pressed on, and fired the Yamato Gun. A massive sphere of energy, crackling with raw plasma accumulated at the Ilona's main cannon. Reaching a critical mass, it shot forth from the Ilona and streaked toward Avalon's Carrier, engulfing a Scout and several interceptors in the process. Barely affected by the scout and interceptors, the super dense ball of plasma penetrated the Carriers shielding and flew directly into the hull's cavity in the center.

Avalon reeled from the colossal shock and wanton disbelief as the Yamato shot crippled the interceptor factory and caused the Carrier's plasma battery to collapse in an implosion of blue flame, pulling in with it in a good amount of the surrounding structure.

"I have… underestimated them. A horrible blunder…" muttered Avalon in the darkness of a power failure as emergency alarms blared around him.

Just how many shots do they have remaining… Left to choose between pursuing the Terrans and destruction of his base of operations, Avalon reached toward his comrades telepathically, and orders a retreat…

"Warriors! Retreat at once! The Carrier must not fall!!" he commanded as emergency power restored the lighting.


	11. AD Liberation ch 11

On the planet surface, a withdrawal was being planned, and "Bandit King" Edward Jing was not very happy about it.

"Pull back? Sir, we're not near half-way done clearing the area!" complained Jing inside his Siege tank.

"Yes, I understand the situation, but we're tankers, god damnit, nothing we can do about things in orbit," Jing continued, as Ryan Slicer, his gunner, looked on, concerned. Outside the Marines were having a field day blowing things up, setting explosives on Spore Colonies, spawning pools, even nascent Zerg eggs, all ready to be detonated on command.

"Anything, sir?" Ryan asked, a bit worried at the way his tank commander's face was turning red. Jing merely raised a finger to his lips, and Ryan promptly shut the hell up, as ordered.

"All right. Understood." Jing sighed after he pressed the button that terminated the radio communication with Port Arthur.

"Mister Kenneth wants us to pull back to the Starport," Jing muttered. "He's sending the transports over to pick us up. Oh, and he says congratulations on a job well done."

"Ok, sir.. uh, shouldn't you be informing the other tankers?" Ryan asked.

"You do it, Slicer. I'm not in the mood," Jing replied.

"Sloppy demolitions work, all round," Captain Leo Kozlov muttered to himself as he inspected the explosives planted by his men. "I suppose I'll turn a blind eye today, since we're short on time."

Several dark shapes came in from the east, the transports were on their way to pick up the men.

"Winning sucks," muttered Crimson, who sat on the turret of her tank, watching the transports approach. "We lost our Lord and Episode can't even warp back in without getting his ass stuck in some kind of space drama," she muttered, brushing aside a strand of black hair that was bothering her.

The Siege Tanks unsieged and pulled away, followed by Marines making a hasty retreat away from the last remaining Zerg structures. At their very rear was their captain, who deliberately hung back, making sure that there were no stragglers left behind. In his left hand, he held the remote for the detonators, that felt heavy in his armored hand, the detonate button aching, begging to be pressed. Smiling, he fought back the urge for another few minutes.

Several minutes later, the Transports slowly, lazily descended on the pick-up zone, totally unlike the initial combat drop, the transports extended landing legs and actually made contact with the ground, hydraulics hissing as a boarding ramp extended.

As Jing rolled his tank into the cavernous hold of the transport, the usual safety briefing filled his radio.

"In the event of a water landing, you may be used as a flotation device," the pilot intoned dryly.

"Stupid air jocks need new jokes," he snarled, as he disengaged the gears and shut off the engines.

The last transport was for the Marines, who prided themselves on leaving the battlefield last.  
After making sure all the men had boarded, Captain Leo stood on the boarding ramp, ignoring the pilot's frustrated pleas for him to get on board so the transport can take off.

"Men!" he shouted, drawing attention from the tired and wounded Marines.

"As usual, first in! Last out! Good job, you maggots!" Leo shouted, making himself heard above the din of the Transport's engines. The Marines roared their approval.

"And cause you've been good little boys, I'm about to give you a treat!" he shouted. Grinning, he raised the detonator controls high above his head, to raucous cheers from the men once they realized what it was.

"This is our little fuck you to the Zerg… Hoo – AH!" He shouted the ancient battle cry, his finger pressing the little button with a satisfying click. Three seconds later, explosions tore apart the remnants of the Zerg hive cluster, pieces of flesh, ichor flying everywhere, as one by one the Zerg structures were flattened, leaving only bleeding, dead stumps, or where the marines were overzealous, holes in the Creep, exposing the bare ground below.

The men cheered their hearts out, and Leo finally got on board, idly tossing the now –useless detonator remote control over his shoulder. The boarding ramp pulled up behind him, the blast doors retracted, and the engines screamed into life, as the Transport took off.

"Ken," said an image of Rogziel, projected on a small communication screen, "The last transport's on its way back."

"Thank you, adjutant," Ken Sohryu replied, as he tiredly took off his flight suit, lazily stepping out of the fireproof nylex before throwing the whole thing into a corner. He managed to take a glance at the sun, already red, and low in the western sky, that cast its glow past the battered and damaged city of Port Arthur, to the green field of untended crops beyond. Deep shadows were cast on the city streets, contrasting with the bright halogen lights of the planet's only working Starport. The view, as always, spectacular.

"Beautiful world we live in, eh, Ken?" said a voice.

"You said it, Isaacson," Ken replied. He knew he really should have used "Soulfire" but he figured his fellow pilot wasn't the type to care which name he used.

"Rogziel said something about Episode being delayed.. What's going on? She won't tell me anything." Soulfire asked, sitting down on an air traffic controller's chair behind Ken.

"Yeah. My instructions. Didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily," Ken replied.

Soulfire leaned back in his seat, tired, but his eyes narrowed. He stared at Ken's back, willing him to turn around. "The returning convoy's been attacked by unknown enemies. There, I've said it," Ken said, still looking out at the sunset.

"Holy shit"

"Exactly. Right here in orbit."

"Ken, this is exactly what happened on Chau Sara," Soulfire replied, worried. "Zerg infestation, then some bogeys appear in - system…"

"And 48 hours later the planet gets glassed," Ken said. "This smells like Confederation black op ten miles away."

"What are you planning to do?" Soulfire asked.

"Rogziel said some transports escaped. As soon as they're here we'll figure out what to do."

"Ken, we don't have enough Transports to evacuate the planet," Soulfire cautioned.

"Not an option, never was." Ken replied. "Now do me a favour, and tell the others. Make sure the Wing don't talk about this to the grunts. This is big."

"Understood."

Glancing up at the rapidly darkening sky, Ken could only wonder what the hell was going on up there.

In space, Oblivious took one last look back towards the Ilona, already aflame and scarred with multiple holes all over its hull. He gave it one last shrug, and slowly made his way towards a transport. The Wraith was in no shape to enter the atmosphere, so he had no choice but to come down the undignified way – planetfall inside the belly of a transport.

He was sort of lucky he didn't have much of a Wing left, since the men would mock him forever about this.

Inside the Ilona, the situation could only be described as complete, utter chaos. Crewmen ran pell mell towards the few remaining escape pods, ignoring the protoss boarding party, who have their own problems. The last of Ryoma's boarding party did not even bother to attack anyone, since they were desperately trying to re-establish contact with the Galdrados.

Kate passed them, monstrous looking ugly creatures, and wanted to throw some grenades at them, but thought better of it. She ran on, pushing aside the slow ones, as even the emergency lights started to fade, and the air started getting hot and stale. She knew there was not much time left, yet she still wondered where Episode went. He didn't even bother to see what the Yamato Gun did to the enemy ship.

Strapped to his seat, Episode looked out the escape pod's window and into the starlit abyss of space. He couldn't help but worry about his executive officer, who he had lost in the confusion of the evacuation. This worry was swiftly overtaken by his worry for himself, as he couldn't establish contact with the other escaping dropships and have to risk being burned to death by the Darkianian atmosphere while crash landing. This worry abated somewhat when he reminded himself he'd be out of the blast radius of the Ilona's nuclear meltdown. Better destroy it with my own hands then let those suckers take it.

The Ilona then exploded in a burst of orange blaze behind him, as the escape pod started to enter atmosphere.

"Hope Kate got out…" thought Episode aloud.

Leaving the bloodshed and chaos erupting behind them, the Dropship pilots cautiously guide their ships into the Darkainian atmosphere, securing much needed assistance for humanity's stand against the Zerg swarm.

Watching the Ilona explode on his flickering main viewscreen gave Avalon some satisfaction, but he knew the price he paid was too high, and he's still paying for it, as he stood there, rock-still, as he heard the damage assesment report.

"This ship is crippled, Executor."

"I expected as much," Avalon replied, not moving.

"Communications with Aiur are out."

"I have no reason to contact Aiur," Avalon replied.

"Our forces are defeated,"

Whirling around in rage, Avalon's eyes glowed red as he stared daggers at L'gac Yzero.

"You will not use that word in my presence, Templar."

"I apologize for his impertinence, my Executor," interrupted Glensather's telepathic voice, as he stepped into the bridge of the Galdrados, the door refusing to close behind him, "I'm sure L'gac Yzero came to that conclusion independently."

"Glensather!" Avalon replied. "It is good to see you"

"Not under these circumstances," Glensather replied, indicating the severe damage the ship has taken thanks to the Yamato Gun blast. "In the name of Adun, how could this happen, Executor?"

Avalon seethed inside, he could sense the mocking thoughts of the Scout pilot. "We.. no, I did not expect these creatures to have such a weapon."

"Alas, what's done is done." Glensather replied deadpan. "Perhaps, now we know what these Terrans are capable of, we may need to resort to alternative plans?"

"Indeed, Glensather, What's done is done. I shall not rue the amount of time you took to destroy the enemy's fliers. Or the ones you let escape."

"Well my Executor, as you said, what's done is done. What are our orders.? " Glensather asked. "I feel that we cannot since we cannot execute Tassadar's orders, we should look into our primary mission."

"Exterminate the Zerg, Executor. There is no dishonor in performing the mandate given to us by the Conclave." Glensather said.

Avalon nodded. "Indeed, you speak truth, Glensather. The Zerg on this planet must be exterminated. Prepare to burn the planet, we shall cleanse this world with fire!"

"Executor, we cannot do that," replied a small telepathic voice from Yzero.

Avalon's fury was such that he wanted to strike the Templar down on the spot, but he somehow managed to control himself, only the darkening orange light of his eyes showed the executor's displeasure. "In the name of Adun, tell me why we cannot do this, templar?" Avalon asked, dripping with menace.

"The interceptor factory and the launch tubes for the neutron warheads are destroyed, Avalon," Glensather replied. "Any one of the Scout pilots will confirm this. We saw nothing but molten metal where they once stood."

Yzero breathed a sigh of relief as he snuck away. He was not used to seeing the Executor like this.

"Very well then .. we shall do this the glorious way," Avalon snarled, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth. "We shall descend to the planet surface. We will plant the warheads ourselves, and we will destroy every living thing on this Adun-cursed planet. The Zerg will be cleansed, along with our honor!"

Glensather nodded, but in his heart, he felt doubt and apprehension rise, which increased palpably every single time he looked at the Executor's furious countenance.

"Adun save us," he muttered as he left the bridge, preparing himself for a long hard fight.  



End file.
